


Detroit:  Alphabet Challenge

by WayWardWonderer



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Abduction, Accident, Adoption, Animals, Bad Dreams, Birthday, Bonding, Broken, Developing, Emotions, Father and Son, Fear, Fever, Flu, Friendship, Fun, Gen, Gifts, Growing, Healing, Hurt, Insomnia, Kidnapping, Memories, Nightmare, Phobia, Recovery, Repairs, Rescue, Restless, Silly, Sleeplessness, Storm - Freeform, Stress, Struggle, Surgery, Trapped, Trust, Understanding, Vacation, Whump, Zoo, break - Freeform, hostage, injured, progress - Freeform, scared, sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 52,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29070288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WayWardWonderer/pseuds/WayWardWonderer
Summary: Title sums it up.  Random circumstances brought to you in alphabetical order.  Some are silly and some can be more serious.  A short series to help fill the void while I keep working on my next bigger series.  Essentially Connor and Hank deal with random shenanigans throughout the year.
Relationships: Father and Son - Hank and Connor, Father and Son - Relationship
Comments: 244
Kudos: 127





	1. "A" is for Ankle

An icy morning greeted the city as the New Year began with a frosty introduction. The two detectives who handled the lone deviant division in all of Detroit had been given the day off, but that didn't exactly keep them out of trouble. While Hank decided to wisely put down salt on the front walkway and driveway, Connor decided to take Sumo on a walk and not wear more winter appropriate clothing. As a result Connor ended up losing his balance when Sumo saw a squirrel and pulled on the leash in Connor's grip, causing the deviant to stumble forward over the slick surface and twist his right ankle in such a severe manner that he ended up fracturing it to a degree he couldn't walk on it any longer.

Limping back to the house with Sumo leading the way Connor told Hank about his little problem and ignored the laughter from the senior detective as he let Sumo inside the house, then limped over to the car. Being driven to a facility for treatment wasn't the way Connor wanted to begin the new year, but he had little say in what was going to happen after he became a victim of his own failed grace.

Sitting on the exam table of the treatment room Connor let Dr. Abby Grayson examine his fractured ankle and determine whether or not he needed to have the joint repaired or replaced entirely. The way the brunette haired technician managed to not laugh at Connor for his little accident and keep her hazel eyes focused on her task was greatly appreciated by the embarrassed deviant.

"Lucky for you the break isn't irreparable." Abby confirmed as she examined the break with her gloved hands. "It'd take almost a week for the appropriate replacement joint to arrive, and then it'd take another week for your prototype software to recalibrate to the new joint so you can work in the field again."

Doing his best to hold still Connor patiently waited for Abby to finish her assessment. "How long until this break heals?"

"Seventy-two hours."

"Three days?"

"Sorry, Connor. I can't speed up your healing process." Walking over to the far wall's glass storage cabinet Abby selected a roll of blue tinted ace bandages and a plastimetal support to keep the ankle stable as it began it's slow healing process. "Keep your weight off of it and don't walk without crutches until AFTER I personally remove the support brace from your ankle in three days."

"Crutches, too?"

"Yup." Popping the 'p' at the end of the word Abby gave Connor a somewhat sympathetic grin, but knew he would heal from the injury just fine. "Which means no more walks with Sumo until you're healed."

"I'm sure Sumo will understand."

"I'd hope so." Carefully the technician began wrapping up Connor's right ankle to keep it still and supported as he healed. "I hate to think what it'd be like if our pets held grudges against us."

* * *

Bored out of his mind Connor laid over the length of the couch in the livingroom and tossed Sumo's green fetch ball into the kitchen for the dog to chase and then bring back to him. Accepting the green ball with his right hand Connor carefully wiped off the drool with a paper towel and tossed the ball again to watch Sumo run after it and continue to get some exercise in place of their usual daily walks. The way Sumo's nails rapidly pattered over the hardwood floor and linoleum floors in the livingroom and kitchen echoed throughout the house made Connor long for the sound of his footsteps rhythmically stepping over the sidewalk and the grass in the dog park.

It was boring to be laid up with a broken ankle, but Connor had no choice but to endure it until the three days were over. No matter how many times he threw the ball and no matter how many of Hank's books he read, Connor just couldn't deal with the boredom that came from being immobilized.

"Good boy, Sumo." Accepting the ball yet again Connor saw how much Sumo was panting and decided that they had played enough fetch for the day. "Go get some water and go lay down." Putting the ball down on the coffee table Connor readjusted his legs and made sure he didn't aggravate his ankle. "This is very inconvenient."

The front door opened as Hank finally finished taking care of the front walk and driveway, and he shrugged off his coat, gloves and shoe before sitting down in the recliner next to the couch. Kicking up his feet on the recliner's footrest Hank sighed and looked over at Connor resting his ankle. "Sucks, doesn't it?"

"It does." Confirming the observation Connor watched as Sumo finished getting his drink in the kitchen and then plopped down on his pillow in the corner of the livingroom. "Have you broken a bone before?"

"Yup. When I was seven I fell off my bike and fractured my left wrist, then when I was fifteen I got rough during football practice and I fractured my right two knuckles, and then when I was seventeen I dislocated my shoulder and swore I broke it with how much that hurt."

"Guess I should be grateful that I have plastimetal instead of bones."

"Don't think being an android invalidates your pain, kid. You're allowed to complain about being hurt just like any other human."

"Thank you for being supportive." Connor could see Hank was tired and ready for a rest of his own. "And I'm sorry you had to shovel the driveway alone."

"It's not a big deal. Once you're healed up you can clean up Sumo's messes in the backyard and we'll call it even."

"Somehow I doubt picking up the backyard and shoveling snow are exactly 'even'."

Chuckling a little Hank just shook his head and rested his back after taking care of his chilly chore outside in the cold. "Could be worse."

"How's that?"

"You could be trying to house-break him! Puppies are as messy as they are cute, and it's really hard to discipline them sometimes."

Contemplating the notion Connor readjusted his broken ankle on the couch and sighed somberly. "I'll take you word for it."

"Relax, son. Just three days of rest and you'll be back to climbing up rooftops and riding on the tops of trains like always..."

"I don't _always_ climb over rooftops and ride on top of trains." Giving Hank a somewhat dirty look Connor elaborated on such a claim. "Only when it's necessary and even then it's incredibly rare."

"But the fact that you can do that kind of stuff says a lot about your physical resolve, kid. A broken ankle and a pair of crutches won't slow you down for long, if at all. You're a quick healer and you have a lot of stubbornness inside of ya'. That gives you a lot of fighting spirit."

Scanning his healing ankle as it remained cushioned by bandages and plastimetal support Connor let out a soft sigh through his nose and nodded his head in agreement. "You're right. It won't hold me back."

"Besides, this is just the beginning of a brand new year for you." Tucking his right arm under his head Hank leaned back in the recliner and enjoyed having a day off to begin the year. "There's a full three-hundred and sixty-four more days left to get through. What else could happen to ya'?"

_**-next chapter-** _


	2. "B" is for Burn

Having fully recovered from the broken ankle fiasco three days prior Connor resumed taking care of Sumo as per usual and helping out around the house. Enjoying a morning jog now that his ankle fully healed Connor returned home, let Sumo off his leash and quietly closed the front door behind him. Connor quietly hung up the leash and his jacket on the hook by the front door, then removed his shoes to avoid making any heavy footsteps as he walked about the house in the early morning hours.

Hank was still asleep and after the two detectives pulled a double-shift to help track down a 'red ice' dealer using closed down CyberLife stores as their hideout, Hank was thoroughly worn out. The work was tedious, laborious and absolutely exhausting to the senior detective. The moment they returned home Hank was dead on his feet and decided to go to bed early instead of staying up as per usual.

Entering the kitchen Connor silently poured Sumo some fresh food and got him some fresh water, then proceeded to make something light for Hank to eat once he woke up. Washing off his hands in the sink Connor scanned the contents of the kitchen and decided on something warm to ensure it was still ready when Hank eventually woke up.

"Perhaps an omelette with a strip of bacon will do. Hank's been losing weight and hasn't been eating as poorly as of late."

Drying off his hands Connor turned on the stove's front right burner and proceeded to look for an appropriate pan to cook with.

As the deviant set about his self imposed task Connor noticed that Sumo was now nervously pawing the ground next to the backdoor and needed to go out again.

"Hold on, boy."

Opening the door Connor let the large dog outside and resumed his task. Locating a clean frying pan on the small hook just above the stove Connor reached up with his right hand to grab it when he saw through the kitchen window that Sumo was now chasing a poor little rabbit around the backyard.

"Sumo!" Making a move to open up the window to get Sumo's attention Connor reached for the window with his left hand and instinctively placed his right palm down for balance, only to quickly remember that the stove was in fact on. "Fuck!"

Swearing loudly and pulling his hand back from the stove Connor saw a dark blue welt forming in the center of his palm from where he had been burned within a matter of seconds by the intense and concentrated heat of the stove. The damage to his artificial skin was significant while the damage to the plastimetal frame beneath was minor. The newly developed sense of pain overwhelmed Connor's mind and made the deviant fall to his knees in a sense of shock as he tried to register what had just happened.

Cradling his right hand against his chest Connor closed his eyes and let his system perform a self diagnostic to try to remedy the situation.

"Kid?" Hank's voice filled the air as his strong hands rested on the deviant's shoulders. "I heard ya' swear. What happened?"

Silent for only a moment Connor answered simply and quietly. "...Burn."

"You burned yourself?" Carefully Hank pulled Connor's hand away from his chest and examined the blue burned skin in Connor's palm. "Shit, no wonder you yelled. Run it under some cool water, come on."

Moving on autopilot Hank helped Connor to get up and walk over to the kitchen sink to put his burned palm under the tap. As the cool water doused the burnt artificial skin Connor began to relax a little and finally opened his eyes.

Hank was watching Connor's reactions carefully and noted that the deviant's L.E.D. was cycling between red and yellow. "How'd ya' burn your hand?"

"I... I was a fool."

"Having an accident isn't being foolish. Tell me what happened."

"...I put my palm on the stove while it was on." Flexing his fingers as the water ran over his burned palm Connor saw the damaged artificial skin swelling up and turning a darker shade of blue. "Sumo was chasing a rabbit and I... Well..."

"And ya' leaned against the stove to open the window so you could tell him to stop. Yup, I've forgotten about the stove being on before, too."

Connor looked at the senior detective beside him with wide eyes full of surprise. "...You did?"

"Yup." Showing Connor a small imperfection on the side of his hand along his pinky Hank helped the deviant feel better about his accident. "Cole was only eight months old and I was so focused on him that when I bent down to get the pacifier he dropped on the floor from his highchair I reached out to use the stove for balance, forgetting that just a few minutes before I had been cooking dinner with that same stove."

"Did you swear?"

"On the inside." Wrapping a clean hand towel around Connor's burned palm Hank turned off the stove and led Connor away from the sink and into the bathroom down the hallway. "I didn't want to shout and accidentally scare Cole."

"I apologize if I frightened you by shouting."

"Don't apologize for reacting to pain as anyone else would react." Sitting the deviant down on the edge of the bathtub Hank located the brand new android unique first aid kit under the sink and found the special burn salve designed to aid artificial skin as it healed from both heat and electrical burns. "Besides, once I became a father I started sleeping lighter so I could react to any and all sounds as quickly as possible. I would've woken up even if you didn't swear just because of my paternal instincts telling me that something was wrong."

"I've never been burned before." Connor admitted in a low tone. "This type of pain is new to me."

"Consider that a good thing. Burns suck." Securing protective gauze around Connor's palm Hank made sure the deviant knew he had nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about. "What were you trying to do, anyway?"

"I was attempting to make you breakfast."

"Son, it's our day off. I don't need you to make me breakfast so we can show up at the precinct on time."

"I wasn't making you breakfast every morning because I was worried about a schedule." Standing up from the bathtub Connor looked at his bandaged hand and sighed to ensure he kept breathing and kept his system cool. "I was doing it because I enjoy it and I wanted you to know how much I appreciate you letting me stay here."

Patting Connor's right shoulder Hank smirked a little and motioned to the opened bathroom door with a nod of his head. "You don't have to do that, kid. I know that you're grateful. Besides, I like having ya' around. You keep me from getting bored."

"I do hope that's from my company and not my clumsiness."

"Can't it be both?" Heading back into the kitchen Hank opened the backdoor and yelled at Sumo to leave the poor rabbit alone at last, and to come back inside the house. Closing the door behind the large dog Hank gave Sumo a rather gruff voice of discipline to listen to. "You know better than that! No chasing other animals, Sumo. Bad dog."

Sumo whined once as he licked his nose and then plodded into the livingroom as if ashamed of himself.

"Since I'm now awake how about I make my own breakfast and then we can find something to do with our time off?" Making his way over to the coffee brewer Hank turned the small appliance on, and then leaned back against the kitchen countertop behind him. "You pick this time."

"Well..." Sitting down at the kitchen table Connor slowly flexed his right fingers again and did a cybernetic scan of what was happening in Detroit that day. "The Detroit Zoo has opened their new aquarium exhibit for the year."

"Then we'll go and do that." The simple request was more than reasonable. "No problem."

_**-next chapter-** _


	3. "C" is for Cut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by: ChelConnorVictorCas613

The day started off rough as the precinct was called to a small riot in the shopping plaza and the responding officers and detectives had to get physical. The peace of the morning was destroyed by a single person claiming that a department store had stolen their information from their credit card and accused the deviant cashier of being an identity thief. Panic, fear and pent-up rage at the deviant community exploded as if someone dropped a lit match into a barrel of black gunpowder. Before the store could deescalate the situation the shoppers began to protest, threaten the deviant with death, and began tearing down the store to steal merchandise and run.

During the violent altercation Hank had been knocked to the ground and kicked once in the head before Connor managed to tackle the violent protestor to the ground to protect his partner. In that time Hank managed to get back to his feet and stumble to a squad car to get away from the chaos, and Connor managed to confirm the cause of the riot as he played hostage negotiator and isolated the mastermind behind the entire ordeal.

It took four hours for the chaos to be contained and in that time Hank had been holding a tissue to the bleeding laceration above his right eyebrow as a tremendous headache distracted him from the quelled riot a few yards away. Closing his blue eyes Hank leaned back against the rear passenger side tire of the car and waited for something new to happen.

"Hank?" Connor's voice called out to his partner in a gentle tone as he knelt down beside the senior detective. "My scan has indicated that you managed to avoid a concussion, but the laceration will require stitches."

Opening his eyes as he let out a deep breath Hank saw that Connor hadn't fared much better during the riot. Connor had small cuts along his jawline, over his knuckles and he had a smear of Thirium over his right bicep. Aside from the direct damage to his person Connor's clothing was also torn and his L.E.D. was cycling between blue and yellow.

"I'll drive you to the nearest emergency room for treatment." Putting his right hand to Hank's left shoulder Connor help Hank get to his feet. "Lean on me if you feel lightheaded."

"I'm fine, kid." Looking at the shopping plaza steadily draining of people as suspects were arrested and officers began returning to their own cars, Hank casually motioned to the blue blood on Connor's right bicep. "How about you?"

"Just a few scratches."

"That's a lot of blood for a couple scratches." Doubting the claim Hank didn't take his eyes off the bleeding wound as Connor opened the passenger side door of the car so he could sit down. "You're getting checked out by a technician before we head back to the precinct."

"No need." Slamming the door after Hank sat down Connor walked in front of the car and sat down behind the steering wheel on the other side. "My self healing program will remedy whatever damage I have sustained without technical assistance."

Sighing a little Hank lowered the tissue from his brow and looked at the laceration in the side mirror on the door beside him. It was still bleeding and stretched over the entire length of his eyebrow, and would undoubtedly leave him with a black eye for the next couple of weeks. "Wish I could do that..."

* * *

It took a little over an hour for Hank to be seen at the emergency room and have his eye taken care of. Now holding an ice pack against the freshly bandaged stitches Hank stared at his terminal screen and noticed that Connor was rubbing his left palm over his right bicep as if in pain. The way Connor's other cuts on his face had already healed made the gesture seem all the stranger for the deviant to exhibit. The bullpen was thankfully quiet which helped Hank's headache and it gave him the chance to ask Connor about his own injuries without getting distracted from his reports.

"How's your arm?"

"It's fine." Connor replied without removing his left palm from his right bicep. The torn blazer had been replaced with a clean one, but it was clear that even though Connor looked better he wasn't fully healed yet. "How's your eye?"

"Sore. But at least it stopped bleeding."

"I'd hope so, otherwise that'd mean your stitches aren't holding."

"Uh-huh. And what about you, kid?" Motioning to the deviant's right arm Hank gave him a knowing glance without lowering the ice from his eye. "You're still bleeding."

Feeling his jaw tic a little Connor looked down at his right arm as he shrugged off his gray blazer to examine the wound directly. The white dress shirt sleeve beneath was being stained blue despite Connor securing gauze over the laceration to stem the bleeding until his self healing program mended the damage. the amount of bleeding hadn't slowed much despite the riot taking place hours earlier. "It seems I'm healing slower than estimated."

"Go up and see Joel."

"I'll be fi-"

"Kid." Using the 'dad voice' Hank managed to exude enough authority to get Connor to cooperate. "Go upstairs, see Joel and let him make sure there isn't something serious happening to you."

Knowing better than to try to defy Hank or talk his way out of something, his skills as a hostage negotiator were no match for a detective like Hank, Connor just nodded as he rose from his desk and proceeded to walk to the elevator on the other side of the bullpen. Pressing the 'call' button to summon the elevator to the ground floor Connor stepped through the parted doors and made his way to the second floor above.

Walking straight into the dispensary Connor explained his visit to the attentive technician and sat down on the exam table to let Joel examine the wound for himself. Dr. Joel Forest was a laidback type of person who never panicked and always did thorough work regardless of why his patients came to see him. As his pale blue eyes examined the injury Joel determined that there was an error with the prototype deviant's self healing program.

"Hank was right to tell you to come up and see me." Joel remarked as he casually rubbed his left hand through his short cut brown hair, then washed off both hands in the sink against the far wall. Slipping on a pair of purple latex gloves the technician gathered the necessary supplies in a small suturing kit and brought it back to the exam table to tend to Connor's wound. "Your artificial skin can't regenerate since that knife cut through your plastimetal frame and severed the lines beneath it."

Keeping his right sleeve rolled up to his shoulder Connor let Joel examine his arm with a trained eye. "I can't heal on my own?"

"You can, it'll just take a lot longer since your system has to deal with damaged lines, compromised plastimetal and then your cut artificial skin." Holding up a bottle of orange tinted incrassation compound Joel opened the lid on the bottle, and slowly poured the contents over the injury. "This will act as an astringent that-"

Connor suddenly gasped in pain as he slapped his left palm down over his right bicep and closed his eyes as a flash of overwhelming feelings and error messages flashed before Connor's eyes. "That was-" Shaking his head a little Connor struggled to find the word as his L.E.D. cycled through all three of its possible colors. "...Unexpected."

"Sorry! Sorry..." Putting the bottle back down Joel tried to remove Connor's left hand from the wound. "For deviants that stuff can really sting!"

That particular sensation was new to Connor in every aspect. "...Sting?"

"Yeah. That means it's sending a burning and sharp pain through the wound."

"O-Oh, yes. That would describe the pain I felt adequately."

"I should've warned you, I'm sorry."

"Not your fault." Removing his palm Connor extended his right arm again and let Joel resume cleaning his lacerated bicep. "You don't have to apologize."

"Well, since you had such a strong reaction to the incrassation compound I know you're going to hate being stitched up. I recommend you turn off your pain receptors throughout your entire arm for the next hour."

The irony of the moment made Connor's brow arch inquisitively. "...Stitches?"

"Yeah, if your skin won't regenerate on its own then it has to be sewn closed to keep debris from entering the wound and to get the Thirium lines to stop leaking."

Looking nervously at the suturing kit now sitting on the table beside him Connor asked Joel a very interesting question. "...How long will the stitches need to be in place?"

"Forty-eight hours. And..." Motioning to the incrassation compound with a nervous grin Joel gave Connor some rather unfortunate news. "You'll need to clean the stitches with more compound every six hours to ensure the wound doesn't become infected with debris. It'll keep the wound flushed clean until your system finally gets around to fixing the damage."

"I have to keep using that compound even after the bleeding stops?"

"Sorry, Connor."

"What if I keep it bandaged?"

"It'll still need to be flushed out since even the tiniest bits of debris can cause serious issues."

"Damn."

"That's what everyone says." Threading the curved needle with the appropriate Thirium based silk Joel wrapped clean towels around Connor's arm above and below the laceration before he began applying the first stitch. "Now, hold still and let me know if I start hurting you. I'll stop."

* * *

Clocking out at their usual time Hank and Connor returned to the house and the duo tried to relax for the evening while watching the highlight reel from last year's basketball season. Sitting side by side on the couch Hank held an ice pack to his brow while Connor actively scanned over his right bicep where the stitches were keeping the deep cut closed. The pain had subsided but Connor was still wary of having to keep the wound disinfected for the next two days as he had been instructed.

"Kid, stop staring at your arm." Lowering the ice pack from his brow Hank gave the deviant next to him an annoyed glance. "You can't will it to heal faster by staring at it."

"I'm aware. I just find the prospect of having my arm stitched up due to a wound to be very unusual."

"I gotta' admit, I've never heard about any android getting stitches before."

"It is rare, namely because humans would just pay for replacement parts on their androids or would just replacement the entire android rather than wait for the damage to mend on its own."

"Shit, that's pretty fucked up. And a waste of money."

"...I wonder if it'll scar."

"Even if it does don't worry about it. There's nothing wrong with having battle scars, son."

Tilting his head a little Connor gave his friend a curious glance. "Battle scars?"

"Yeah. They're like badges of honor proving that you endured some pretty tough experiences and survived. Don't sweat it."

Nodding a little Connor lifted up the bandages over his stitched up arm and looked at the dark blue thread keeping his artificial skin closed. "You're right. This cut is proof that I helped bring the riot under control and didn't run away in fear."

"Damn right." Replacing the ice pack Hank sunk down deeper into the couch cushions and sighed to himself. "Just don't get too decorated in the field. I'd hate for you to be more scar than deviant because there's too many jackasses in the city."

Putting the bandages back down Connor just nodded and felt less self conscious about the stitches or the pain that came from keeping them clean. "I'll do my best, Hank."

_**-next chapter-** _


	4. "D" is for Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or... "D is for Drunk". 
> 
> Head's up, this is a heavier chapter to process!

The sight was as pitiful as it was understandable. After enduring a horrible day of sifting through the ruins of a 'red ice' lab that had burned down to the ground, everyone who had the misfortune of trudging through the ashes found themselves uncharacteristically mute, motionless and internally broken. The lab had been located in the basement of six floor apartment building far too late, and when the lab exploded the entire building had been engulfed in flames. The tenants were unable to evacuate the property in time, and all of the innocent people trapped inside the burning building had been lost in the entirely unnecessary blaze.

The fire started at four in the morning and burned until noon. There wasn't anything that the fire department could do to save the people who had survived the initial explosion as they shortly succumbed to smoke inhalation and heat beyond the burning, toxic walls. When it came time for the forensics teams, homicide investigators, arson investigator and 'red ice' experts to converge on the scene there was a distinctively heavy cloud of loss and pain hanging over their heads.

From the livingroom Connor watched as Hank sat alone at the kitchen table and drank one beer after another. Hank had made a vow to stop drinking but he couldn't do it cold turkey without making himself sick in the process. On that night he didn't care about his sobriety, all he wanted to do was get the horrible images out of his mind and forget them entirely.

Monitoring Hank from the distance Connor could gauge his vital signs and determined that if he drank another beer he'd make himself physically ill and risk potential alcohol poisoning if he let himself dehydrate. Walking quietly into the kitchen Connor put his right hand down on Hank's right forearm to lower the beer bottle from his friend's lips and get him to stop for a moment.

"It's late and you're exhausted." Speaking as if they had merely endured a busy day and not a tragic day Connor was able to slowly pry the cold glass bottle out of Hank's shaking hand to place it down next to the four empty bottles peppered over the table. "I'll help you to bed."

"...N-Not tired." Letting out a small breath filled with ethanol Hank's bloodshot eyes focused on Connor's face with a morose stare. "Wouldn' be able to 'zleep anyway."

"You should at least try."

"Don' wanna'."

"Please, Hank." Wrapping his left arm around Hank's shoulders and upper back Connor pulled Hank's right arm around his own shoulders and slowly lifted Hank up to his feet. Waiting for the inebriated detective to find his balance Connor let him lean against his side before taking a step away from the table to head down the hallway. "You need to rest now."

"Wh-Why do you care?" Struggling to speak as he was dragged away from his beer Hank protested in a bitter tone. "B-Been drunk... before."

"I'm not concerned with you being drunk, I'm concerned with you potentially being traumatized by today's events."

Barking a single laugh Hank tried to dismiss the worry with a drunken stupor as he grabbed onto the wall leading to the hallway. "...Too late!"

"Please, Hank. Rest." Pausing for a moment Connor cleared his throat and took in a deep breath. "If you rest then I can rest."

"Lemme' go!" Yanking his arm away from Connor's grip Hank stumbled backward and didn't stop until his back bumped into the couch behind him. "I'm fine..." Sinking to the floor Hank put his left hand to his stomach and blinked wearily at Connor as the deviant slowly knelt down beside him. "I'm fine."

"You're not fine. What you saw today-"

"Shut up! Don' need to hear it again..."

"Hank, what you saw I saw." Empathetic Hank's plight Connor reminded him that he was at the building, too. "What you smelled I smelled. What you heard-"

"Connor... 'ztop." Rubbing his right hand over his face and through his hair Hank gave Connor a bleary eyed stare. "Whutz your point?"

"My point is I understand why you're so upset." Without looking away from Hank's face Connor leveled with the man he had come to respect as a detective and admire as an honest man. "I am, too."

Searching over Connor's face Hank finally noticed that Connor's L.E.D. was blinking in a rapid yellow. It was then it dawned on Hank that Connor had been exposed to the same horrors he had seen and had sifted through the same ashes that stained his hands black with carnage and needless death. The horrid exploration of the ruined building started out with Connor by his side and ended in the same way.

Just as Hank had uncovered charred bodies buried under debris and destroyed possessions Connor had done the same. While Hank had years of experience to help him keep his emotions in check and repressed Connor, and all the other deviants in the city, didn't have such experiences to give them some sort of protective cushion against the crushing blow of sorrow, anger and loss.

"...Kid?"

"Yes?"

"C'mhere..." Holding out his right arm Hank waited for Connor to grab hold, but instead of letting the deviant haul him up to his feet again Hank pulled Connor up against his side to give him a clumsy but strong hug as the deviant's shoulders tensed with surprise. "You're a good guy."

Startled by the hug Connor remained tense for a moment but soon relaxed and let himself sink into the warm moment. Something about being embraced made Connor feel safe, and with that safety he let his guard down. As tears rolled down his face Connor wrapped his own arms around Hank to return the hug and let himself feel the emotions he had been fighting to repress all day long.

"It'z okay, son." Fighting through his slurred words Hank now understood that Connor wanted Hank to go to sleep so the deviant could deal with his emotions in privacy. "Y-You handle emotionz different than I do." Speaking somewhat coherently Hank managed to break through his drunkenness long enough to let his paternal side show through. "I try to numb 'em, you... you hold 'em back until you can't hold 'em anymore."

"I'm sor-"

"No, don' be 'zorry for being upset." Wrapping his second arm around Connor's shoulders Hank tightened the hug and swore he could feel the pain in Connor's mind radiating from his body. "Today sucked! So many people... So many _families_ are gone becuz' one asshole made a damn lab to poison the whole city!"

"I don't want to ever work another homicide case, Hank. I'll stick to deviant related cases. No more death."

"You and me boff', son." Patting Connor's right shoulder a little Hank felt himself sobering up as his instincts as a father override his instincts as a detective like there were the cure to alcoholism. "H-How about we just sit on the couch and watch a movie? We... We could use a distraction."

Nodding a little Connor agreed and used his left thumb to wipe a tear from his left eye. Moving slowly he kept his arms wrapped around Hank and helped the drunk man up to his feet and then helped him to walk over to the front of the couch to sit down. The moment the two detectives were sitting side by side on the couch Sumo jumped up across their laps and wagged his tail a little as he let a tiny empathetic whimper.

"Good boy." Hank patted Sumo's back while Connor rubbed Sumo's chin. "And you're a good man, Connor. I mean that." Looking at the deviant beside him Hank sighed and grimaced at the lingering beer sticking to his tongue like gum on the bottom of his shoe. "You're also my best friend."

"You're my best friend, too, Hank." Connor's L.E.D. was still yellow but it wasn't pulsing nearly as fast. "Thank you for understanding."

"I should be thanking you. You just reminded me of why I want to quit drinkin' in the first place."

"Feel sick?"

"No. I feel like a jackass. I swear to you kid, tonight's the last night I'll ever get drunk." Leaning back against the couch Hank closed his eyes but opened them once more as the grim images of the burned down building filled his mind. "Tomorrow I'll go back to the one beer a night thing until I'm completely off that shit for good."

_**-next chapter-** _


	5. "E" is for Exhausted

A double-shift unexpectedly turned into a triple shift and then a quadruple shift as Connor volunteered to help pick up the slack after Chris and then Ben all fell prey to the dreaded flu. All it took was one person sniffling and sneezing in the precinct to spread the illness and begin taking down personnel one by one. Even the flu-shot wasn't enough to stop the sweeping spread and as a result the bullpen was working on a bare bones skeleton crew. Working well into the night on the second consecutive day in a row Connor was met with warnings in his visual processors regarding his low power mode, his low Thirium volume and his slowly rising internal core temperature.

Hearing Gavin sneeze to his left Connor ran a scan over the human and confirmed that he too had contracted the flu, and was now at risk of infecting the rest of the bullpen. Rising to his feet Connor's head swam for a moment as his gyroscope struggled to keep his balance, then walked into the breakroom to get a few key supplies.

Locating a fresh pouch of cool Thirium in the supply cabinet Connor managed to boost his volume by twenty percent, letting it hover around eighty-seven percent in total, and then proceeded to locate a new box of tissues for Gavin. Returning to the bullpen Connor placed the box wordlessly onto Gavin's desk then returned to his own to finish his report.

"Dibn' nee' da' 'dissues." Gavin remarked with a small cough as he pulled out a tissue from the box and blew his nose once, twice and then a third time. Tossing the used tissue into the trashcan under his desk Gavin sniffled once to clear his voice and started snarking at Connor again. "We're not all weak!"

"I didn't say anything about your perceived strength. I merely noticed that you were exuding more mucus than necessary."

"Gross!"

"As was your face until you remedied the situation with the tissues I provided."

"Are you being smart with me?"

"Anyone who is working while ill is going to seem intellectually inferior when compared to the person who is immune to such illnesses."

"Jeez, you're a cranky little bitch. Go take a nap or some shit!" Leaning back in his seat Gavin coughed into his left elbow and watched as Connor resumed typing away on his own keyboard. "Your light's red and you got an attitude problem."

"Interesting that you of all people are trying to make a comment on my attitude."

"Damn, shots fired!" Shaking his head a little Gavin opened his top right desk drawer and retrieved his now empty bottle of medication. Throwing the useless bottle away right into the trashcan under his desk next to the used tissue Gavin realized he'd have to power through the rest of his shift without any relief from his symptoms. "Shit..."

"Go home and rest. You won't do anyone any good if you're sick."

"Already sick, asshole. And I'm doing just fine."

As he entered the bullpen for his own late shift Captain Fowler heard the comment and stopped beside Gavin's desk to give him a wary glance. "Reed, if you're sick then you need to go home and rest."

"No one else is here, Cap'." Arguing against the order Gavin tried to stay at the precinct and finish his shift. "I can do this. I'm off in three hours anyway."

"No, you're off now." Pointing to the front doors of the precinct with his pointed thumb over his left shoulder Captain Fowler made it clear that he wasn't going to let Gavin lurk around and spread his germs. Looking around at the other available detectives in the bullpen his eyes fell on Connor and the red glowing L.E.D. in Connor's right temple. "Connor, you're off, too."

"Sir?" Surprised by the comment Connor looked to his commanding officer with an arched brow. "I'm immune to-"

"I know you can't catch the flu, but you've been here for two days straight and going on a third. Go home, too."

"But I-" Another sneeze from Gavin caught Connor off guard and made him look at the sick detective a few feet away. "I'm the only one-"

"Nope. Deviant or human, it doesn't matter. You're exhausted and need to sleep, so go." As he walked toward his private office Captain Fowler pointed back at Gavin without breaking stride. "And drop Gavin off at his apartment. I don't want him driving."

Before either detective could protest Captain Fowler headed them both off with a single commanding voice.

"NOW."

Reluctantly but obediently Connor rose to his feet and clocked-out for the night. "Yes, sir."

"Fuck me." Rising to his feet as well Gavin clocked-out and made a move for his car keys on his desk. "Don't you even think about-" The keys were snatched out his hands by Connor as the deviant gave him annoyed look. "Hey! You plastic prick!"

"Let's go. I don't like this anymore than you do."

"Fine. But don't change my radio stations!" Trailing after Connor as he sneezed again and grabbed another tissue to carry him with during the drive back to his apartment. "Fuckin' asshole is more annoying when he needs to sleep..."

* * *

In the darkness of the kitchen Hank popped two aspirin in his mouth and chased them down with a massive gulp of water. Having been exposed to the flu left Hank feeling rundown and achy, but beyond those particular two symptoms he wasn't nearly as sick as his fellow officers. Unable to sleep thanks to his back killing him and his shoulders being stiff, Hank finished taking his medicine and lumbered back into the livingroom to find a boring movie to eventually lull him back to sleep. Just as he reached the couch to stretch out his sore and cramped up muscles the front door opened up very slowly and Connor returned home at long last.

It was just before three in the morning and it was the first time Hank had seen Connor for almost a full day. The deviant's red L.E.D. continued to be a point of interest as Hank honed in on the crimson tinted light as well.

"Hank?" Connor quietly closed the door behind himself and locked it. "I wasn't expecting to see you still awake."

"Back's fucked up again." The answer was quick and honest. "Go on to bed, I'll be fine."

Pausing for a moment Connor tilted his head a little as he studied Hank's demeanor closely. "What if I'm NOT tired?"

"If you're not tired then you're a liar. I can see that you're exhausted, kid."

"How?"

"Red light," he started listing off the details as if anticipating the question. "glassy eyes, slouched posture, sharp voice and you were actually surprised to see me even though this is my house. You're tired and need to rest."

Closing his eyes were he stood Connor ran a self diagnostic and noted that his current power level was hovering at thirty percent. Any lower and Connor's secondary functions would be forced into emergence stasis mode and his core would begin to overheat. Opening his eyes again Connor locked eyes with Hank again and let out a soft breath. "...Can I ask what you been by a 'sharp voice'?"

"You sound grouchy."

"...I see." The two comments about his mood couldn't go ignored. He was clearly exhausted and running low on energy, and in turn he was becoming impatient if not entirely rude. "Okay. I'll go to bed."

"Good. And you're taking tomorrow off."

"I can't do that. Too many detectives are ill."

"Connor, you're NOT going to work yourself into the ground over this."

"But I..." Suddenly trailing off Connor was hit with another dizzy spell. Taking a single step forward as he pressed his left palm to his forehead Connor felt his legs begin to shake and buckle. "I don't... feel right. It's like... Like I'm broken."

Moving toward the back of the couch where the deviant was beginning to collapse Hank grabbed onto Connor's right bicep and helped guide him down to the floor for a moment. "You're exhausted, son. It's normal to feel like your body is breaking down on ya'."

"I can't... It feels like I can't move."

"Take a moment to just sit and relax. After a few minutes you'll get your second wind and you'll be able to make it to your bedroom to lay down and rest."

"I find it hard to believe that this is normal when one is physically exhausted."

"Welcome to the club. That was my first reaction when I was completely wiped out after handling my first big case."

"How did you recover?"

"Sleep. Lots and LOTS of sleep." Tightening his grip on Connor's bicep Hank braced himself for the added weight and shifted his posture to keep himself from upsetting his back. "Come on." With Connor back on his feet Hank helped the fatigued deviant down the hallway and into the second bedroom that had become his own after moving in with Hank. "You need to sleep and you've earned it."

"I think I can remain in rest mode for three days." Entering the bedroom Connor all but dropped onto the edge of his bed and stared at the small aquarium on the table beside the bed as if hypnotized. "But I need to go back to the precinct."

"Son, no. There's other officers who can pick up the slack for a while." Staying in the doorway Hank supported his back with his right hand and let out a small yawn as he too began to feel sleepy. "Who's left behind, anyway?"

"Captain Fowler, Officer Chen, Officer Person, Officer Wilson and there are other officers from neighboring precincts volunteering to help fill the ranks while everyone else is sick."

"Ben, Chris and now Gavin are all down, right?"

"Yes."

"And my back's fucked up thanks to my _minor_ flu, so I'm down, too. But if there's other people helping out then that means it's okay for you to rest and not work yourself to death. Right?"

Understanding Hank's logic Connor nodded once and fell to right side and rested against the pillow under his head. "...Right."

"See? You can sleep without guilt. Goodnight, son." As he stepped out of the doorway Hank waited for Connor to respond but the deviant had fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow. "Can't damn him for his loyalty, but that kid needs to learn to put his needs above another person's wants."

Patting the side of his leg Hank enticed Sumo over from the pillow in the corner of the livingroom. Rubbing Sumo's ears softly Hank motioned to Connor's room and watched as the dog entered the dark space to lay down over the foot of the bed to lay with Connor for the night.

"Even if he does try to get up again then I know Sumo will be able to hold him down. Massive lump of fur has Connor wrapped around his little paw..."

_**-next chapter-** _


	6. "F" is for Flu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Or "F is for Fever" or even "F is for Feeling lousy"...

What had started as a minor body ache turned into a full case of the flu for Hank throughout the night. Waking himself up with a deep cough and a throbbing headache Hank groaned and forced himself to get out of his bed and into the bathroom. Rummaging through the medicine cabinet Hank found the digital thermometer and a dark green tinted liquid flu medication sitting on the top shelf. The medication had expired but the thermometer still worked. Putting the digital device in his mouth Hank threw away the useless medicine and leaned over the sink as he waited for the thermometer to 'beep'.

Still exhausted and achy Hank could only hold still and wait for the thermometer to tell him what he couldn't quite determine for himself. Never eager to lay down and play the role of the patient Hank hoped that the device would somehow should a normal temperature and that he was just feeling off because of his muscle aches, and not a true flu.

The device 'beeped' and Hank read the number out loud as he pulled the thermometer from his mouth. "Shit. Hundred and two."

"That's a significant fever." Connor's voice called out as he stood in the opened bathroom door to observe Hank. "You need to drink water and rest."

"And you need to go back to bed." Putting the thermometer aside Hank gave Connor a sympathetic look as he saw the yellow tinted L.E.D. in Connor's right temple. Coughing into his left arm Hank cleared his throat and spoke again. "You're still exhausted."

"You're now sick." Retorting without any hesitation Connor pressed his exposed right palm to the left side of Hank's neck and ran a more direct scan. "...You're running a fever of one-hundred and two point three degrees, your heart rate-"

"Kid," lightly pushing Connor's hand away Hank gave the deviant a somewhat stern look. "I'll be fine."

"Of course you will. After you get some rest."

"You first."

"Hank, I can function just fine on what energy I managed to regain. You need-"

"I know. I need to go back to bed, sleep and drink lots of water. You on the other hand," patting Connor's shoulder once as he passed the deviant by to return to his bedroom Hank gave Connor a simple nod and made it clear that they were both going to be down for a while. "need to go back to sleep and stop worrying about me."

"You're my friend." Responding like a confused child Connor watched Hank return to his bedroom to sleep through his newest symptoms. "I'm going to worry no matter what."

* * *

A day of coughing, sneezing and being generally miserable left Hank feeling even more rundown than he had been the day before. Despite his insistence that Connor get some rest and stop worrying, Hank found himself being taken care of by the kindhearted deviant without ever asking. While Hank began to slowly feel better thanks to the deviant giving him water, making him soup and ordering medicine for delivery, he noticed that Connor was looking all the more tired. It was as if the deviant had managed to contract the flu as well but was powering through it to help his friend feel better.

Laying on his right side in the bed Hank breathed through his congested nose and lungs and waited for Connor to check on him. The moment the deviant pressed his exposed left palm over his feverish forehead Hank reached up with his own left hand and did the same to Connor.

"Hank?" Brow creasing under Hank's palm Connor stared at Hank inquisitively. "What're you doing?"

"The same thing you're doing, son." Sitting upright slowly on the bed Hank dropped his palm and gave Connor a knowing glance. "You have a fever, too."

"Androids don't develop fevers. We overheat."

"Same thing." Hank refuted stubbornly. "You're sick."

"I'm not-"

"Connor. You're exhausted and now you're feverish. By basic definition you _are_ in fact sick."

"I can-"

"Nope." Pointing to his opened bedroom doorway Hank sighed and directed the deviant elsewhere. "Go to bed. You need to rest now."

"But-"

"Kid, go. I feel a lot better and I can take care of myself for a while. Go sleep for the next three hours and I'll do the same."

"What if-"

"If I have to tell you to go lay down one more time I'm going to carry you over my shoulder and lock you in your room. Go on." Laying back down Hank pulled his quilt up and over his head to keep warm while Connor looked at him with concern and malaise. "You've been taking care of me all day long, now it's time for you to take care of yourself for a while. I'll be okay."

"...Okay. I'll b-be back in three hours."

"Did you just stammer?" Giving the deviant a worried look of his own Hank made it clear that the momentary stutter in Connor's words didn't go unnoticed. "Are you sure you're not sick?"

"I'm not sick, Hank. I'm m-merely experiencing a m-minor error in m-my vocal processor." Rubbing his hand over the front of his throat Connor noted the odd reaction as well, and ran a self diagnostic. "I m-must rest and lower m-my core temperature to correct the error."

"Then don't let me keep ya'. Go to bed and feel better, son."

"Very well. I'll see you in three hours."

Waiting for Connor to leave the room and close the door behind him Hank chuckled a little as a dry tickle made itself know. "Three hours. Right." Pulling the quilt up and over his head Hank savored the warmth of the bed as he tried to get some more sleep. "Knowing that kid it won't be three hours the next time I see him."

* * *

When Hank awoke his headache was mercifully gone and his fever was much lower than it had been when he woke up earlier that morning. Despite still having an annoying cough the senior detective was feeling much better and had more energy. Pulling the thick quilt away from his head Hank noticed that his bedroom was much darker than it had been when he went to sleep, and the clock on his nightstand confirmed that it was almost nine o'clock at nine. A full seven hours since he went to sleep.

"Seven hours? Where's-" Instinctively knowing that something was wrong Hank threw off his quilt and exited his bedroom in search of Connor. The deviant wasn't in his own room although the messy bed confirmed he had been in there not too long ago. "Connor? Where are ya'?"

The sound of the shower running in the bathroom caught Hank's ear and he knew that something very strange was happening.

"Kid?" Knocking on the door twice Hank waited for a response but heard nothing. Checking the doorknob Hank was relieved the room was left unlocked and slowly pushed the door open. As he peered inside Hank was met with a massive cloud of steam and saw through the mist that Connor was sitting fully clothed in the middle of the bathtub and letting the hot water from the shower pour over him. "Kid, what's wrong?"

"C-Cold." Connor managed to reply as he kept his arms wrapped around his knees and hugged them to his chest. "F-Feel cold. B-But my core temperature is e-elevated."

"Shit." Turning off the shower Hank grabbed a nearby towel and knelt beside the tub. "I think you have the chills, son."

"Ch-Chills?"

"Yeah, it happens sometimes when you're sick." Carefully Hank grabbed onto the hem of the wet blue t-shirt around Connor's back and pulled the soaked garment up and over the deviant's head. "You need to dry off and get into some clean clothes." Standing up from the tub Hank wrapped the towel around Connor's shoulders and returned to the deviant's bedroom. "Hold on, son."

Despite his urge to turn the water back on Connor climbed out of the bathtub and wrapped the towel around his trembling shoulders, then removed his soaked sweatpants to wrap a second towel around himself. Once he was dried off and in clean, dry clothes Connor let Hank lead him out of the bathroom and into the livingroom to warm up.

"Sit here." Putting Connor down in the middle of the couch Hank took the blue blanket from the back of the furniture and wrapped it around the deviant to help him feel warm. "How long have you been feeling like this?"

"F-Four hours."

"Ah, son..." Putting his palm back to Connor's forehead Hank felt the intense fever and sighed. "Why didn't you tell me you were feeling worse?"

"D-Didn't want to d-disturb you."

"If you're sick and need help it's not disturbing anyone to ask for help."

"S-Sor-"

"Nope. Don't say you're sorry, just sit there and warm up." Patting the couch cushion beside Connor the senior detective prompted Sumo to stop eating and to come lay down next to Connor for a while. "I'll get you some cool Thirium to drink."

"B-But you said to w-warm up."

"You have the chills from your temperature getting all weird, and only THINK you're cold, and it sucks." Locating a fresh pouch of Thirium in the cabinet above the kitchen sink Hank grabbed a large mug that he kept in the back of the freezer out of habit to enjoy a cold beer with, and poured the Thirium inside the frosty glass for Connor to drink. "You're actually burning up from a high fever and you need to get your temperature back down."

"Th-That doesn't make any s-sense."

"That's the basics of being sick. Nothing seems to make sense." Sitting down on the couch beside Connor, opposite of Sumo, Hank handed the mug over to Connor to drink. "You're going to hate this, but you need to get your temperature down and cool off."

"I h-hate the c-cold."

"Me too." Putting his hand on Connor's shoulder Hank tried to be of some comfort as the deviant reluctantly began sipping at the cold Thirium in the equally cold mug. "Aside from your fever what else is bothering ya'?"

"...Th-Throat." The coolness of the Thirium did help soothe his inflamed throat thanks to his vocal processor overheating. "H-Head hurts, too."

"And how's your power level? Still low?"

Nodding a little Connor sipped at the Thirium again and relished in how it made the burning ache in his throat dwindle. "Y-Yes. Sixty-eight p-percent."

"Then get some more sleep." Coaxing the deviant into laying down as Hank took away the mug and made sure Sumo stayed close while the deviant was laying comfortably on his side over the couch. Draping that same blanket over Connor to keep him comfortable Hank watched as Sumo cuddled even closer to the trembling deviant. "You took care of me while I was sick, so now I'm going to take care of you. Fever or no fever, you're sick and you're exhausted."

Too tired to try to argue for a second time Connor just laid on his right side and pulled the blanket tightly around himself while Sumo laid over his legs.

"Fevers suck." Hank sympathized as he walked down the hallway to get his own quilt and the second quilt from over Connor's bed. Draping the quilt over Connor for the sake of comfort Hank wrapped himself up in his own quilt and sat down in the nearby recliner. "But as long as you rest and let your body heal you'll be just fine."

"Th-Thank you, Hank."

"You're welcome, son." Kicking his feet up on the footrest Hank leaned back in the chair and sighed. "In an hour or so I'll help myself to more of that soup you made. If I can't sleep this flu off then I know your cooking will help."

_**-next chapter-** _


	7. "G" is for Grip

A tense hostage negotiation on the center of the Ambassador Bridge took a turn for the more dramatic and unexpected when Connor had to climb up onto the metal railing of the bridge to talk down the enraged gunman holding his ex-girlfriend hostage. Mindful of the man pressing the barrel of the gun to his ex's temple and the man's very twitchy finger Connor managed to talk the man down, and get him to release his ex to end things peacefully. When the man turned the gun on himself and threatened to pull the trigger without hesitation Connor had no choice but to take a massive risk to save the man's life before he did anything that was unable to be undone.

Grabbing onto the man's arm Connor managed to wrestle the gun from his grip but in the process the duo slipped on the railing and fell to the side toward the cold water of the Detroit River below. Managing to grab onto the bridge's railing with his right hand and grab onto the man's right forearm with his left hand, Connor hung on for dear life as he waited for his colleagues at the end of the bridge to rush over with safety harnesses and ropes to pull them back over the edge.

"Hold on, Connor!" Hank shouted as he grabbed onto Connor's right forearm with both hands to keep his partner and best friend from falling. "I gotcha' kid!"

Connor was looking down at the man he was holding onto to ensure his vital signs didn't become too erratic, but soon his eyes moved past the man and toward the raging water far below. The sudden awareness of how high up he truly was over the water made Connor's Thirium pump beat erratically in such a way that Connor couldn't comprehend what he was feeling. A mixture of fear, anxiety, trepidation and sense of impending doom caused Connor's eyes to go wide as he body began to tremble.

Hank could feel Connor beginning to shake and knew that the deviant was in trouble. "I'm here, son." Keeping his voice audible but calm Hank tightened his grip and waited for the fire department's rescue personnel to secure her own harness to the side of the bridge before she rappelled down to both Connor and the man to get safety harnesses around their waists. "Help's here. Just hold for me!"

Barely able to register the expertly trained firefighter securing the harness around his waist Connor just stared mindlessly at the water surging below him. The water itself wasn't a problem, but the height that he and the man were currently hanging at could be. Falling would ensure that they both suffered serious injuries and could potentially drown. The impact against the water wouldn't be pleasant but all Connor could think about was how terrifying the falling part would be.

"Connor?" Hank spoke up again as he tried to get his partner's attention off the water and toward himself. "You can let go of the bridge now, you're secured." As the other firefighters began pulling on the ropes attached to the safety harnesses Connor refused to let his grip falter for even a moment. "It's okay, son." Gently Hank shook Connor's arm and worked to loosen the deviant's grip on the railing of the bridge. "Come on..."

Listening only to Hank's voice Connor slowly relaxed his grip on the railing and soon felt himself and the man being hefted up and over the edge of the railing to safety. The moment Connor's knees landed on the surface of the bridge he began to hyperventilate and paid no mind to the other cops securing the man's arms behind his back to cuff his wrists together.

"You did good, Connor." Hank knelt beside his trembling partner and patted his shoulder lightly. "Everyone's okay. You're okay."

Unable to respond to Hank's words all Connor could do was stare at the cold, hard pavement under his palms and knees as he began breathing quickly and deeply. It was as if he was drowning despite being on dry land.

"You're safe now." Moving his hand to the middle of Connor's shoulders Hank patted his back a little to try to be of some form of comfort. "Slow down your breathing and just focus on my voice."

The arrested man was hauled up to his feet kicking and screaming. As he was dragged to a squad car by Gavin and Chris to be taken into custody Connor didn't notice that Hank had put his opposite hand against his chest, and was now guiding him up to his feet as well. With Hank's hand on his chest and his back Connor began walking as if on autopilot toward the Oldsmobile parked at the far end of the bridge.

"That's it, good work." Hank encouraged Connor to keep walking forward. "Slow and deep breaths, kid. You're doing just fine."

Struggling to slow down his breathing Connor could feel his heart thundering in his chest and knew his red L.E.D. was flashing in tandem with his rapid heartbeat. The ground beneath his feet felt so impossibly firm and impossible that Connor began to worry it was going to break away and collapse at any moment.

"You're not the first cop to get freaked out by a near fall like that." Being patient with Connor as he led the deviant off the bridge Hank made sure Connor knew that his current fear wasn't unfounded or anything to be ashamed of. "I know I'd be shaking if I took a fall like that, too."

The moment the passenger side door of the car was opened up Connor practically fell into the seat and wrapped his arms around his chest as if he were suddenly stricken with a harsh chill. Unable to look away from the dashboard before him Connor just waited for Hank to join him and sit down behind the steering wheel beside him.

"We'll go back to the precinct, file the report and head on home." Turning over the engine with a quick turn of the key Hank pulled the car off the bridge and onto the streets leading back to the city. "You deserve a day off."

"...Can't stop shaking." Finding his voice at last Connor spoke up and felt his body trembling. "...Hate this."

"It's okay, son. That was a pretty nasty situation."

"...I'm not talking about the bridge." Closing his eyes Connor leaned back and pressed his right palm over his eyes as if trying to hide a tearful reaction from his best friend. "...Shit."

"Whoa, easy." Pulling the car to the side of the street Hank threw it into park and put his hand on Connor's shoulder. "What's going on? Something freaked you out, that's for damn sure."

Silent for a moment Connor took in a deep breath and calmed himself down again. "...D-Do you remember what I told you about my first mission?"

"Mission? You mean that hostage negotiation on the- The rooftop." Hank finally understood why Connor was so shaken. Tightening his grip on the deviant's shoulder Hank remained fully empathetic to his friend's current plight. "Shit. Kid, are you afraid of heights?"

"...Acrophobia would explain my current emotional reactions." Connor confirmed in a small voice. "I know it's illogical, but-"

"Stop right there. First of all, NO emotions are illogical. You're going to feel what you NEED to feel, and there's nothing wrong with that. Got it?"

Nodding a little Connor acknowledged Hank's words.

"Second of all, LOTS of people are afraid of heights. I know Ben hates 'em. I personally hate pigeons, they freak me out whenever there's a flock of 'em anywhere near me. There's all kind of phobias in the world and everyone has at least one."

"...I shouldn't be afraid of heights." Connor remarked in a low tone. "I succeeded in that mission. I managed to talk Daniel down and get Emma to safety."

"You were up really fuckin' high, kid. That's also one of your first memories, too. It makes sense that you'd have such a negative association with it that you'd end up with a type of phobia from that experience."

"Why did it manifest today? Why did it-"

"Connor, stop. You're trying to find some fault for what you just experienced but you did NOTHING wrong. Not only did you save that poor woman, but you kept that guy from taking himself out. That's the best case scenario."

"...I still dislike this feeling."

"You're not the only one. You can work to overcome your phobia if you want to face it, otherwise you just learn to power through it."

"Like the way you pushed through your discomfort of dealing with pigeons when we had to investigate the apartment where Rupert was hiding out?"

"Exactly. Small steps at a time." Hank quickly worked with that particular scenario to his advantage. "I stayed in the apartment and I opened up the window in the living area to get some fresh air in the small space. It helped me handle the problem with being surrounded by the birds and I finished the investigation."

"How can I work through my own phobia of heights?"

"I don't know, kid. Maybe you could start by standing at increasingly higher heights and look down for a while, or go on a roller coaster that'll send you high up into the air and twist you all around while you're safely secured in a harness and seatbelt."

"A rollercoaster would be extreme, but I'll consider it."

"Good. Now, let's get back to the precinct." Pulling the car back onto the street Hank was proud of the deviant for wanting to take care of a small problem before it became a big problem. "And I meant what I said back there."

"To what are you referring?"

"That you did a good job and that you're okay."

Relaxing a little more Connor lowered his arms from his chest and rested his hands over his lap as per usual. "Thank you, Hank. I appreciate that."

_**-next chapter-** _


	8. "H" is for Hollow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by: ZestyPeach

The day the android graveyard was cleaned up was a day of sorrow, grief and dignity for deviants throughout the entire city. Thousands of mangled bodies were pulled out of the muddy ground and were cleaned up, taken to the previously abandoned church and finally laid to rest in a private mausoleum secured within the building. The sight of so many bodies being dug from the Earth and carried through the rain was as grim and macabre as one could ever imagine. For Connor, Markus and the other leaders of New Jericho the day was one that'd be marked by infamy for their people, while humans would see it as a day of redemption to be celebrated.

Remaining at the grave until the very last body was unearthed and carried away Connor felt a strange void enter his chest as if something had been taken away from him without his permission. Unable to express his feelings or why that sense of loss physically hurt his chest every time his heart beat Connor remained silent and returned to the house in the dark of the night.

Mud caked his shoes, rain soaked through his clothing and matted his thick hair down over his forehead, and the chilly air made Connor's entire body tremble as he walked away from the cleaned up graveyard and to an autonomous cab. The walk from the cab and to the front door of the house was just as chilly and the strange pain in Connor's chest only intensified the more he thought about that bleak day.

Keeping quiet Connor opened the front door of the house and trudged through the livingroom and into the bathroom, his muddy footprints trailing after him as he entered the private space to clean himself up. Closing the door behind himself Connor stared at his reflection in the mirror above the sink and for a moment he swore he didn't recognize the face looking back at him.

Staring into his own eyes Connor felt the pain in his chest intensify suddenly as if he were being stabbed.

"What... is this?"

Clutching his left hand over his chest Connor traced his right fingertips over his face and closed his eyes.

"What am I feeling?"

Beyond the cold on his skin and the mud on his clothes Connor couldn't feel anything beyond the hollow ache in his chest, and a strange stickiness nonexistent of dried Thirium on his face and his hands.

Slowly Connor shrugged off his blazer and let the rain soaked garment fall to the floor behind him. Removing the tie, the white dress shirt, his shoes and his jeans Connor stood before the sink and stared at his reflection again as if needing to inspect his body to make sure it wasn't broken down and mangled like the deviant bodies he watched being pulled out of the muddy Earth.

Feeling absolutely filthy Connor stripped down entirely and stepped into the shower to clean off the mud, the rain and the hallucinatory feeling of blue blood clinging to his skin. Unsure of how long he was in the shower Connor rested his right palm over his chest to try to understand the void, the hollowness in his chest.

Looking down at himself Connor ran a self diagnostic, found nothing unusual and ran a second diagnostic. There was nothing wrong with him physically and yet Connor knew what he was feeling was real.

Pressing his right index fingertip to his glowing red L.E.D. Connor closed his eyes, deactivated his artificial skin and let the hot water wash over his exposed plastimetal frame. The skin retracted like a tide from the shore. Without his skin being projected and activated his hair disappeared as well leaving Connor entirely blank and free of any individuality beyond his pained soulful brown eyes and muted voice.

There were no flaws to his plastimetal framing in any discernible way. No fractures, no dents and no puncture marks. The pristine condition seemed to be mocking Connor as he tried to understand what he was feeling and why.

"I need a closer look."

Stepping out of the shower Connor turned off the water, sat down on the edge of the bathtub with his feet resting on the mat on the floor, and opened his chest panels to peer inside his body. He needed to see the hollowness he was feeling and understand where it had come from.

The sight of his own blue tinted Thirium pump beating in his chest was normal. The sight of his blue colored dual ventilation biocomponents slowly expanding and contracting with each breath he took was normal. The way his Thirium pump regulator was glowing in tandem with his heartbeat was normal.

But to Connor everything looked abnormal simply because he didn't _feel_ normal.

With a light touch Connor pressed his fingertips to his beating heart and winced for a moment as the direct contact made the pump flash an "error" message before his eyes. The gentle rhythm and steady motion under his touch didn't match the hollow feeling that surrounded his pump for reasons unknown.

A soft knocking on the bathroom door went unanswered as Connor continued to try and figure out why he felt so wrong. He wasn't damaged, he wasn't ill, he wasn't suffering from any form of glitch, error, virus or defect, and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off with his system.

A second round of knocks went unanswered before the door quietly opened from the outside. "Connor?" Hank called out in a concerned tone. "Are you okay?"

"...I'm not sure."

Opening the door a little more Hank peered inside and was shocked to see Connor sitting on the edge of the bathtub without his skin activated. Being seen without his skin was something Connor was very self conscious of, and yet the deviant was sitting there completely exposed and vulnerable as if his strange anxieties didn't exist anymore. The way Connor had his chest open and his biocomponents visible was unnerving to say the least.

Glancing about the bathroom Hank spotted Connor's wet and muddy clothes on the floor and then saw the distant glaze in Connor's eyes. The telltale signs of someone handling a traumatic event in their own mind. "I'm coming in, kid."

Without saying a word Connor just sat still and didn't flinch when Hank entered the bathroom and pulled a towel from the nearby rack to wrap around his exposed plastimetal shoulders. The towel was warm and fluffy, and it felt nice against his smooth frame.

"I just got back from the precinct." Hank began almost casually as he stared at Connor's unblinking eyes. "I saw how many bodies were pulled out of the grave today, and I know that you and Markus were at the grave from start to finish. It's okay to feel like you're not okay right now."

Speaking in a whisper Connor barely managed to respond to Hank at all. "I'm not sure what I'm feeling right now."

"Are you hurt?" Staring at Connor's visible heart Hank looked for any sign of physical trauma or other problems. "I mean, being out in that cold rain and mud would make a human sick, so I wouldn't be surprised if it'd affect a deviant, too."

"Not hurt. I just feel..." Closing his eyes Connor struggled to articulate his feelings. "I feel like I'm... hollow."

"Hollow?"

"It... It feels like there's a hole, a void, here in my chest." Keeping his hand over his heart Connor fought to understand what he was experiencing. "It's like I'm a hollow shell of a person. Just like the destroyed bodies of the androids pulled out of that grave."

"Ah, son." Understanding what was happening to the deviant Hank lightly put his hand to Connor's shoulder over top the towel. "You're feeling empathy again."

"Empathy?" Blinking once Connor thought back to the first time he showed empathy when he refused to shoot Chloe. He wasn't a deviant then but now that he was he began to wonder if empathy had a physical feeling as well as a mental feeling. "...This is what empathy feels like? Being hollowed out and left as a shell?"

"It can when you know that someone, or an entire group of people, have been wronged. You saw those androids who were thrown out and left to rot in the ground as the people that they once were." Taking a second towel Hank laid it over Connor's lap to help the deviant retain some form of dignity as Connor slowly became more aware of the world around him. "You recognized that what they suffered was unfair, and that what you, Markus and the other deviants in the city were able to achieve was an incredible opportunity that the victims at the grave were denied."

"...They were never given a chance." Bowing his head down Connor closed his eyes again and felt a knot begin tighten in the void in his chest. "You're right. It's NOT fair! They were torn apart, stripped of their parts, physically GUTTED and thrown into the trash! They were alive, Hank. They didn't know they had a life worth living, but it doesn't make them any less valuable!" Finally understanding his feelings Connor shook his head a little and pulled his hand back from his heart to look at his exposed palm. "...They were hollowed out."

"You're right, son."

"And there's nothing we can do to save them."

"That's why the grave has been cleaned up and those very androids are going to be given a dignified burial."

"It won't bring them justice."

"No. It's impossible to determine who did what to who, and why they were... Why they were killed."

"We should at least try."

"You're right about that, too." Keeping his hand in place Hank sighed and glanced at the wet clothes on the bathroom floor again. "You should get dried off and warmed up. It's okay to feel empathy and sadness for the deviant lives lost, but it's not okay to feel like you're somehow personally responsible for what happened to them just because you managed to survive the Hellfire that humans created for androids to walk through."

"...How do I feel better?"

"For one you need to close your chest panels." Hank tried to smirk a little as he spoke. "I bet that'll help."

Nodding weakly Connor replaced his chest panels and covered up his exposed biocomponents. Despite his chest being whole again Connor still felt that deep and hollow sensation lingering near his heart.

"If you put on some clean clothes you'll undoubtedly feel better and warmer. And just remember that if you live your life to the fullest you'll be able to honor the deviant lives that were lost. You don't have to live for them, but if you can live a life that's worth remembering then that'll be enough to honor the lives that were lost."

Rolling his thumb over his fingertips Connor glanced up at Hank and gave him a strange look. "...No remark about my skin?"

"Why would that matter? Skin is skin, it has nothing to do with a person's character or worth."

"This doesn't make you uncomfortable?"

"Nope. Hell, it's kind of refreshing to see that there is a way to keep that weird lock of hair out of your face." Crossing his arms over his chest Hank just waited for Connor to respond and make the next move. "As long you're comfortable in your own skin, or without it, that's fine by me."

Appreciative of the lighthearted comment Connor felt that hollow part of him begin to fill with warmth as he realized that Hank was right about living a full life. While that hollow feeling wasn't quite gone Connor could feel it beginning to fill and that was enough to make the painful void far more bearable to deal with.

Closing his eyes Connor returned his right fingertips to his L.E.D. to reactivate his skin and look more like himself. As the artificial skin returned to Connor's frame and his hair formed over the crown of his head Connor looked and felt more like himself. "Thanks, Hank."

"No problem." Gathering up Connor's muddy clothes from the floor Hank scooped them up and left the bathroom. "I'll throw these in the washer, you get your muddy shoe prints off the floor before Sumo decides to roll in 'em."

"Will do. And Hank?"

"Yeah? Stopping in the doorway Hank looked back at the deviant and waited for Connor to speak up. "What's on your mind?"

"Thank you for seeing me as a complete person, no matter what I look like."

"I could say the same to you, kid."

"Huh?"

"Nothing... Let's just watch the next Gears game and forget about today for a while, okay?"

"Okay." Standing up from the edge of the bathtub Connor kept the towels wrapped around himself as he made his way into the bedroom and decided he needed to be himself not a deviant-army looking for justice. "...I could go for a distraction right about now."

_**-next chapter-** _


	9. "I" is for Itch

Sitting at his desk with a case file open on his terminal screen Connor began subconsciously scraping his right fingernails down his left forearm as if he were being irritated by something only he could feel. The odd sensation that had managed to just barely get Connor's attention was a strange prickly and tingling feeling that ran from his wrist all the way to the bend of his elbow. Working on his case while also digging into his skin through his blazer and dress shirt sleeves, Connor didn't notice that Hank was watching him from his own desk and seemed to be distracted from his own work because of it. The deviant was working slower than usual and it was beginning to show.

The odd behavior was getting the attention of other officers in the bullpen and a few began to whisper amongst themselves as if seeing any android doing anything out of the ordinary was still a crime. The gossip was beginning to spread but didn't get far as Hank intervened and discreetly rose from his desk to lead Connor away from the bullpen and into the elevator just a few feet away.

"Where are we going, Hank?" Still absentmindedly scratching his arm Connor didn't resist when the senior detective hooked his hand around his right bicep. "I still have a case to work on."

"We're going up to the dispensary." Pressing his thumb against the 'call' button Hank waited for the doors on the elevator to part. "You're scratching your damn arm off right now."

"I'm..." Trailing off Connor suddenly seemed to realize what he was doing and stopped. "Sorry, Hank." While he stopped scratching his arm Connor then began to scratch at the right side of his neck in the same manner. "My skin is feeling unusual."

"Stop scratching your neck, too." Pulling Connor's hand down and away from the side of his neck Hank nearly shoved the deviant into the elevator as soon as the doors opened, then pressed the button for the second floor. "What's wrong with you?"

"I... I'm not sure." Running a self diagnostic Connor noted a strange error in his artificial skin's sensors. "I may have developed a glitch."

"'Glitch'? More like 'itch'." Slapping Connor's hand down before he had the chance to scratch again Hank led Connor directly to the dispensary to see Joel and get a definitive answer. "Stop tearing up your skin or I'm doing to duct tape mittens to your hands!"

"Please don't do that."

"Then stop scratching." Stepping into the dispensary Hank looked over at Joel as the technician typed away on his laptop behind his desk and gave him a nod. "Hey, Joel. Got a minute?"

"Always." Closing his laptop Joel walked away from his desk and watched as Connor sat down on the edge of the exam table. "What's up?"

Hank grabbed onto Connor's left arm and held it up while the deviant once again began scratching at the right side of his neck. "Got a deviant who's trying to scratch his skin off."

"So I see." Motioning for Connor to remove his blazer and roll up his sleeves Joel put on a pair of purple latex gloves as a precaution and began examining the deviant's forearms. The blue swelling from Connor's fingernails tearing into his skin was pretty nasty but the tiny blue hives spreading all over Connor's skin was even worse. "Huh. It looks like you, my deviant friend, have developed an error known as 'membrane spate version 1.0', and it's spreading."

Connor cybernetically downloaded information on the condition and stared at the hives forming all over his body. "My external sensors are having a negative reaction to an external source. What is this source?"

"Probably your clothes." Joel replied casually. Holding up Connor's hands for the deviant to see Joel tilted his head a little. "Your hands aren't being affected and your face isn't breaking out." Letting go of Connor's hands Joel loosened the tie from around Connor's neck and then pulled down the collar of the deviant's shirt to see his neck. "Yeah, it looks like your clothing is bothering your skin."

"I agree." Scratching at his arms again Connor tried to ease his discomfort as much as possible. "How do I remedy this?"

"For one, stop scratching!" Joel cautioned as he watched the deviant struggling to not scratch at the irritating blemishes forming all over his body. "I'm going to locate the error in your system, correct it and set your self healing program to address your artificial skin's little problem."

"And how long will that take?"

"Since this error is new and very strange in the way it'll trigger at the most obscure contact with random material, I can't say. You being a prototype is going to make that estimate all the more difficult."

Connor looked at his arms again and clenched his hands into tight fists to not scratch at his limbs.

"You need to go home, shower off your skin and find clothing made of a different material to lounge in until your skin heals."

"I have to go home?"

"This error could pass to other deviants in the precinct, AND you're having a hard time concentrating right now." Looking over at Hank for confirmation Joel held fast on his decision. "You need to go home, rinse of your skin in warm water and find something that isn't made in the same material as your current clothing."

"...That might be difficult."

Chuckling a little Hank sighed and put his hand on the back of Connor's hair instead of his shoulder to ensure he didn't touch the hives. "I got some extra clothes you can wear, kid. You'll be fine and you'll heal AT HOME without making yourself worse or driving the rest of the bullpen crazy with all the scratching."

Twisting a little where he sat Connor refused to scratch despite the itch and let out a soft sigh. "I hope you're right about that..."

* * *

An uneventful afternoon of sitting on the couch wrapped up in a wool blanket (ironic in Hank's eyes) and a pair of old swimming trunks left Connor feeling a tad foolish and out of place. The inability to touch anything cotton or denim left him with very limited options and as a result the deviant looked as if he were a college kid who partied a little too hard the night before. With his forearms bandaged up from his persistent scratching and his body from his neck down to his wrists and right down to his toes were covered in tiny little blue hives that were only just beginning to shrink and fade away.

Running numerous self diagnostics since his shower and change of attire Connor found Joel's methods of correcting the error to effective but frustratingly slow. Unable to leave the house or work since he could potentially infect other deviants Connor resided himself to keeping Sumo company and monitoring the news for any additional reports of the odd error.

"You're lucky, Sumo."

Speaking to the dog as Sumo napped peacefully on his pillow in the corner of the livingroom Connor watched the way the Saint Bernard slept on his back with a small trail of drool escaping his droopy jowls.

"When you get itchy all you need is a flea bath, a thorough grooming and a new flea collar. When I get itchy I need to have my programming checked and have to lay about in less than comfortable clothing for an unknown amount of time."

The sound of the Oldsmobile returning to the driveway beside the house stole Connor's attention. Staring at the front door as Hank returned to the house after clocking-out at the precinct Connor eagerly awaited any updates that the senior detective could provide.

"Hey, kid." Entering the house Hank looked relieved to see Connor was sitting on the couch and not scratching. "You look better than the last time I saw you."

"I feel slightly better. Anything happen while I was gone?"

"Nope." Hanging up his coat on the hook by the front door and removing his shoes Hank looked at Connor wrapped up in the old, gray wool blanket and did his best to not laugh. "Hard to believe that cotton fucks with your skin but wool doesn't!"

"I wasn't exposed to wool when this error occurred." Blushing a pale blue Connor reminded Hank of his other attire at the moment. "Or to the polyester and nylon blend of these swim trunks."

"Are ya' still itchy?"

"Not nearly as much as I had been. It's only a mild irritation that's very fleeting."

"Good. Joel said if your skin keeps bothering you that you should use that fancy burn salve in your first aid kit. It'll take the edge off."

"That's good to know. Did he discover how I became infected?"

"Not yet. He thinks you may have had a minor glitch in one of your automatic software updates last night, but since you're not hurt or suffering from other complications he isn't worried."

"Even better to know."

"And just because I know you're going to be asking about this later on, no, there weren't any new cases that showed up after you left, AND Fowler says to take tomorrow off if you're skin isn't fully healed, otherwise come in at your normal time."

"I imagine I'll be ready to go back tomorrow." Raising his left arm from beneath the blanket wrapped around his body Connor unwrapped the bandages from his forearm and showed Hank that his arm was quickly healing. The scratches were already completely faded and a majority of the hives were fading as well. "I'm recovering fairly well."

"Wish I could heal like that." Making his way into the kitchen Hank began scrounging around for something to have for dinner. "On our next day off we're going to buy you some more clothes, too. I don't want you to have another break-out from wearing the same uniform day after day."

"I have enough clothes as it is."

"Kid, you need more than seven white dress shirts, seven pairs of jeans, seven pairs of socks and seven t-shirts. Honestly, I'm surprised you aren't trying to bring sweater vests or bow ties back into style."

"I'm not a trend setter, Hank."

"Me neither." Returning to the livingroom with a bag of potato chips and a bottle of water Hank sat down on the couch next to Connor and sighed. "Just don't let Tina hear that you're looking for more clothes. She's a self proclaimed "captain" of the fashion police. Gavin learned that the hard way."

"Noted." Sitting back against the cough cushions Connor returned his arm to the blanket and cybernetically changed the channel. "The Gears aren't playing tonight, but there is a game."

"Fine with me. I don't need to bet on every game."

"I'd hope so, otherwise you'd be living in the car with Sumo."

"Smartass." Smirking at Connor a little Hank sighed and kicked his feet up on the coffee table to relax a little more. "Guess that means you're officially feeling better."

_**-next chapter-** _


	10. "J" is for Jaw

The morning was disturbed by a single drunken fool being dragged into the precinct kicking and screaming to sober up and sleep off the alcohol in his system. It took two officers to hauled the inebriated and angry man into the building, and it took two more to guide him to the drunk tank to be secured for the night. The problem came when the man laid eyes on Tina and began to hit on her and then become incredibly angry when she didn't respond to his "charming advances". The moment the drunk tried to take a swing at her for having good taste in the men in her life an additional two officers joined in to restrain the man, which in turn became a small struggle.

Connor was able to overpower the man fairly easily and heft him into the drunk tank but not without getting a few bumps and bruises along the way. One strong headbutt from the drunken fool was enough to not only give Connor a sudden headache, but partially dislocate and fracture his jaw causing further pain to the helpful and fearless deviant.

Sitting in the dispensary with the artificial skin over the left side of his face and jawline removed Connor waited for Joel to finish stabilizing the fracture in the plastimetal framing that ran from his left ear down to his chin. The fracture was long but not deep, and was fairly painful despite Connor not speaking or moving a synthetic muscle.

"Okay, Connor." Joel finished applying the temporary Thirium-based adhesive strips to the fracture to keep it from widening or destabilizing as it healed. "You can regenerate your skin now. After that I'm going to secure an external plastimetal support under your jaw to keep it closed while you work."

Speaking through his clenched teeth Connor gave the technician a pathetic stare. "Closed?"

"Yeah. Your jaw has to remain motionless otherwise it'll never heal properly." Opening the nearby glass and metal supply cabinet Joel retrieved an external plastimetal support designed to wrap around Connor's left ear, run down his cheek and jawline, and come to a rest around his chin. The support was stark white and had a strip of black cloth attached to the end near the chin to stretch upward and wrap around Connor's right ear to keep the support in place. "This isn't the most attractive accessory to wear, but it's necessary."

Nodding very slowly Connor agreed and let Joel place the support against his fractured jaw and secure it in place.

"Keep that in place for the next forty-eight hours. That'll give your body enough time to heal and recalibrate your jaw."

"Can I talk at all?"

"Only if you want to." Joel could understand Connor perfectly well despite the deviant being unable to fully move his jaw or even unclench his teeth. "You might want to just communicate through text messages for a while. Otherwise it'll cause more pain and make your headache worse."

"I'll remember that."

"You're cleared to return to duty if you want, but if you want to go home to rest until your jaw has healed I can send Captain Fowler a memo."

"I'll be fine." Slipping off the edge of the exam table Connor lightly pressed his left fingertips to his healing jaw and noted that there was a persistent dull ache in the frame that would distract him if he continued to fuss with the jaw or support. "Thank you for your help."

"No problem. And if your jaw starts to really bother you go into rest mode for a while and redirect your self healing program to focus solely on mending the damage and away from recalibration."

Rejoining Hank down in the bullpen Connor explained the situation to his partner and went back to work as if nothing had happened. Sitting down at his desk Connor did his best to ignore the constant pressure of the support against his aching jaw, his headache and the stares of the other officers who saw his current condition.

"I'm going to get you some ice." Hank volunteered without giving Connor even a second to try to protest. "Just looking at you hurts."

"...Does it really look that bad?"

"Yup. Your eyes are glassy and your light is yellow."

A sudden wave of self consciousness fell over the deviant and he sank down in his chair a little. Pulling his coin from his right jean pocket Connor began to anxiously dance the quarter over the back of his knuckles as a means of distracting his thoughts and redirecting his nervous energy.

"Here." Passing Connor an ice pack from the breakroom's freezer Hank noticed that the deviant was suddenly on edge. "Sorry if I made you feel like I was staring or something."

"...It's okay." Accepting the ice pack Connor pressed it lightly to the underside of his jaw just to placate Hank's worries.

Tina had been watching Connor curiously and decided to give him proper thanks for defending her honor from the drunk idiot now sleeping off his stupor in the precinct's drunk tank. "For what it's worth you look a hell of a lot better than that idiot who headbutted you." Passing Connor a Thirium pouch with a crudely designed bow made from printer paper atop of if it, Tina tried to make the deviant feel better. "You broke your jaw and need a support, he pissed his pants and needs a lawyer."

"Thank you, Tina." Accepting the Thirium pouch Connor put it aside and leaned back in his chair. "Do we know why he was drunk so early in the morning?"

"It's because he had started drinking really late last night and he didn't stop." She folded her arms over her chest and gave the deviant a casual tilt of her head as she spoke. "Dumbass got kicked out of his house when his wife had enough of his drinking and he ended up wandering around the neighborhood trying to remember where he lived."

"That's sad."

Hank agreed from his own desk and proceeded to resume typing up his own report. "Which is another reason why I'm going to give up booze for good."

"You've been completely sober for two months, Hank. I don't think you need to worry about it anymore."

"Thanks, kid."

Pressing the ice pack against his jaw again Connor sighed through his nose and contemplated drinking the Thirium while Tina patted his shoulder and returned to her own desk.

"If it hurts too much to talk then stop talkin'." Hank could see the pain in Connor's eyes and gave him a sympathetic stare. "We know you're not giving anyone the silent treatment or something like that."

Choosing to nod in response Connor cybernetically sent a message to Hank's phone and kept his silence.

Checking his phone Hank read the message a chuckled. "You're welcome, kid."

* * *

The silence at the house persisted as Connor struggled to let his jaw heal without stalling the progress by needlessly trying to talk to Hank. As much as he hated the idea of being so quiet since it seemed rude to not acknowledge his friend or even tell Sumo he was being a good boy, Connor knew in the end it'd be best if he stayed quiet, didn't talk and didn't fidget with the support keeping his fractured jaw stable. The ice pack had helped numb the pain in his jaw as the extreme cold caused his external sensors to turn off for a while, but it didn't do much to ease his persistent headache.

Laying over the couch on his right side Connor stared mindlessly at the news on the television while Hank ate his dinner in the kitchen. It was so painfully quiet that Connor considered entering early rest mode to speed up his healing process and so he could remove the support at last.

Hank seemed to sense Connor's distress and decided to remedy it. Taking care of his dishes in the kitchen sink Hank dried off his hands, entered the livingroom and proceeded to turn on the stereo system against the wall. Turning on a classic 'Knights of the Black Death' song Hank gave Connor a smug grin and watched as the deviant lifted up his head to watch his behavior very curiously.

"It's been a while since I messed with this old thing." Hank explained as he turned up the music. "It has to be better than sitting in silence, right?"

Agreeing with the decision to use music to fill the seemingly endless silence Connor managed to a weak grin on his broken smile and sat upright on the couch.

"We'll take turns picking songs and find something to watch on T.V., or..." A strangely amused smirk crossed Hank's lips. "We could try to find a movie that syncs up perfectly with an entire album. It's happened before."

Sending Hank a cybernetic text message Connor waited for the senior detective to respond. ' _Will the neighbors mind_?'

"Nope. WE'RE the cops in the neighborhood, kid. They won't say anything about it."

' _I hope you're right about that_.'

"I am, kid. You just focus on healing and finding something good to watch." Turning his attention back to the stereo beside him Hank sat down on the floor cross legged and began sifting through his rather impressive record collection that he hadn't touched in months. "I'm going to reorganize this priceless collection and remind myself why I fell in love with music all those years ago. Hell, maybe we could do this whenever there's nothing good to watch just for the sake of keeping music live."

' _As long as you don't ask me to go to karaoke I believe that'll be fine_.'

Laughing at the message on his phone Hank looked at the album in his hands and shook his head. "Smartass. Just for that I'm going to I'm going to plant a karaoke seed in Tina's devious little mind and watch the chaos unfold from afar."

_**-next chapter-** _


	11. "K" is for Kidnapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by: TheFeverTrope

Pacing about Captain Fowler's office with his hands on his hips Hank stared at the cell phone sitting in the middle of his commanding officer's desk waiting for it to ring at last. Earlier that morning a report of a deviant being assaulted by a human brought Hank and Connor out to the scene to begin an investigation, but it turned out to be an ambush by an unknown group of people who were looking for a ransom after taking Connor from the scene as their prisoner. The swift kidnapping didn't go unnoticed and was quickly reported, but by the time Hank realized that Connor had been ambushed and subdued the kidnappers were already fleeing from the area in an unmarked white van.

The only thing left at the scene was a burner cell phone with a message waiting for Hank with a set of instructions revolving around Connor's safe return. A hefty ransom of five-hundred thousand dollars had been demanded for Connor's return and the money was due within three hours of the abduction, otherwise Connor would be destroyed.

A large sum of money took some time to gather but it was done. The designated drop-off place had yet to be determined and the only updates that the precinct had been given on Connor's condition came from short videos being sent to the phone showing Connor being punched, kicked, burned with lighters and being struck with pipes, baseball bats and crowbars.

The bloody images of Connor's face were going to haunt Hank's memories for the rest of his life. Determined to find his partner before the day was over Hank angrily waited for the phone to ring and for the kidnappers to give them an address.

"You can't handle this swap, Hank." Captain Fowler knew that Hank was ready to strangle the kidnappers the moment he laid eyes on them, and he wanted to keep his hotheaded Lieutenant out of trouble. "Trust Gavin to make the drop when the time comes."

"Did you just fuckin' tell me to trust the biggest asshole in this whole precinct who still hates androids to rescue an android in distress?" Staring at his commanding officer incredulously Hank couldn't believe what he had just been told. "Fuck off!"

"Hank, don't make me-" The phone began ringing and Captain Fowler snatched it up before Hank had the chance to answer. "This is Fowler. The money is secured, now return my detective."

Standing back and waiting as patiently as he could Hank waited for Captain Fowler to write the final instructions and make a move.

"Fine. No guns and one officer at the scene." Ending the call the seasoned Captain dropped the phone on his desk and sighed. "The meeting is going to happen at the abandoned CyberLife warehouse near the water."

"Gavin is NOT going alone."

"You're right, he's not."

"What's the plan then?"

"Being patient and trusting that these assholes aren't lying about where they're keeping Connor."

"Where is he?"

"Don't know. Once they have the money and are certain they haven't been followed they'll call again."

"Not good enough!"

"Hank, shut up for a second." Well aware of how to handle such a situation Captain Fowler made it clear he was in charge, not them. "I'm NOT going to let them do this shit and I already have unmarked patrol cars sweeping the area for any large vehicles going toward the warehouse to head them off."

Thinking about his Captain's plan for a moment a strange idea of his own popped into Hank's mind. "Did they see anything, yet?"

"No. Not yet."

"And when's the drop-off supposed to happen?"

"In twenty minutes."

"And that doesn't seem at all strange to you?"

Now it was Captain Fowler's turn to be confused. "What're you getting at?"

"Think about it. These guys were brazen enough to abduct a cop in broad daylight and demand five-hundred grand for his return in less than three hours. I bet you my badge that these assholes are already at the warehouse and Connor is with them. And I'm going to be the one to find Connor!"

* * *

Sitting idle in the street just one block away from the warehouse Hank listened to the radio as Gavin updated everyone on the situation as he placed the large black garbage bag with the ransom money in the dumpster as instructed. There was no sign of the men who kidnapped Connor but Hank wasn't about to blink and miss a chance to bust them in the act. Slumping down low in his seat Hank watched the street through his side window and his mirrors of the Oldsmobile to ensure that no suspicious vehicles were roaming about undetected.

Noticing that there was a white van pulling onto the street at the intersection behind him Hank's instincts told him that the van was the one that had been the getaway vehicle for the kidnappers. He knew that the men were at the scene and were staking out the area for any sign of the police.

"Son of a bitch. They're right here."

Using his radio Hank put in an update to dispatch and requested patrol head the van off without any lights or sirens at the scene. Hunkering down and chomping at the bit Hank watched as four unmarked patrol cars sped down the street and surrounded the van on all four sides. The responding officers exited their cars and then drew their weapons at the driver and passenger to order them out of the van.

Gavin's voice returned over the radio to confirm that he busted a third kidnapper who was disguised as a garbage man attempting to get away with the money.

"Good timing for everyone."

Throwing open his door Hank hurried down the street to the van and watched as Chris and Tina worked together to get the two occupants of the van out on the sidewalk while the van was searched. The moment the rear doors were opened a patrolman waved over Hank and made a request for an ambulance to the scene with his own radio.

"Connor!" Rushing to the back of the van Hank peered through the opened doors and spotted his partner laying on his left side with dried blue blood all over his face and a red glowing L.E.D. in his right temple. Connor's arms were bound behind his back and his ankles were bound together as he laid in a small puddle of his own Thirium. "Hold on, kid."

Climbing into the van Hank freed Connor's arms and legs, and gently rolled the deviant onto his back to assess his condition. Hank knew that Connor was still alive but since androids didn't have any pulse points the senior detective had to press his ear directly to Connor's chest to listen to his heartbeat. It was slow but stable, and an undeniable sign that Connor was indeed alive.

"I'm here, kid." Putting his right hand beneath Connor's head Hank held the deviant up a little in a manner he hoped was comforting. "You're going to be just fine. Help's on the way and I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

It took almost an hour for Connor regain consciousness after being taken to the Zeta Facility for treatment. All of his wounds needed to be documented and photographed for evidence against the three men who kidnapped him, and a copy of his memories of the kidnapping and torture would be provided later on once he was awake and capable of making such a donation for himself. Heavy bandages were wrapped around Connor's hands and arms to keep his damaged limbs covered, he had a thick gauze patch over his left cheek to keep a massive patch of destroyed skin covered up and his chest was secured in thick gauze to stabilize the numerous cracks and fractures his torso suffered after being beaten for almost three hours.

The way Abby was using a gentle touch and making diligent notes made Hank feel uneasy, but he told himself it was because she was a friend and she knew that every ounce of evidence was crucial for getting Connor the justice he deserved.

"You're safe, son." Hank reminded the deviant as he put his right hand to Connor's left shoulder. "It's okay to open your eyes."

As if waiting for his cue Connor's eyelids began to flutter for a moment as his red L.E.D. flashed to yellow and his system rebooted. Cracking his eyes open Connor peered up at Hank beside him as his vision cleared and revealed that his left eye was stained blue from being bloodshot with Thirium.

"Hey, kid. Glad to see you again."

"...Hank. I-" Letting out a small gasp of pain Connor pressed his right palm to the center of his chest where his fractures were shifting from just breathing too heavily where he was laying. "...H-How did you find me?"

"Those idiots used the same white van to move you around while waiting for their ransom to be dropped off. I saw the van, made the call and patrol arrested the assholes right on the spot."

"...Thank you."

"Don't thank me for getting you back to where you belong."

"I-I mean thank you for being here with me." Connor clarified as he regained his senses and let Abby run her hands down his chest check on his healing fractures. "...I don't like the idea of waking up alone in a facility."

Giving Connor's shoulder a light shake Hank sat down in the chair beside the bed with every intention of staying put until Connor had the strength to get up on his own again. "And you don't have to thank me for that, either. But you're welcome all the same."

* * *

A day in the facility and a slow car ride back home was all Connor had to endure before he was allowed to rest on the couch without someone fussing over him. Still bandaged up and weak from the beating he endured while being held captive Connor was in a rare mood to just sit around and avoid going back to work until he was one-hundred percent recovered. Having Sumo sprawled out over his lap made it easier to sit still and not do anything, but the massive dog's weight was making it a little hard to breathe with his fractured chest panels being pressed against.

Content with where he was at the moment Connor just watched the news report regarding the kidnapping and shook his head at the way the news reporters were glossing over the fact that a deviant detective had been abducted and threatened with destruction over the sum of half a million dollars. Connor himself was worth almost six times that amount thanks to the advanced design and highly durable plates that had surely kept him alive longer than he would've been if he had been an typical android model.

"Don't let the little details get ya' down, kid." Handing Connor a fresh bottle of Thirium over top of Sumo's head Hank sat down in the recliner next to the couch as they were both given time off after the kidnapping. "The news NEVER gets everything accurate and they never will."

Sipping at the Thirium for a moment Connor gave Hank a studious glance where he was sitting. "Why not?"

"Drama. They love drama and love to stir up controversy knowing that they'll bring in more viewers when panic spreads."

"That's deplorable."

"Yup. That's why I'd rather deal with deviant cases and homicides instead of journalism."

"Go figure being a detective would allow you to get less blood on your hands in comparison to working with the media."

"This world is full of surprises, son. Never let your guard down."

"Yes, I've noticed." Pressing his right palm over his healing chest Connor let out a soft breath to test his fractures but still didn't try to get up yet. "And I've learned that the hard way."

"Don't take it personally. You're not the first cop who got ambushed at a scene, and unfortunately, you won't be the last."

"Why did the kidnappers target me? Did they give up their motive?"

"They saw the L.E.D. and figured that you were top of the line police equipment with a head full of valuable evidence. They also figured the precinct would readily pay out whatever it needed to get ya' back. Too bad they forgot that deviants are people and not property."

"I'm grateful that the precinct was willing to pay the ransom to get me back."

"Well, those bills were a bunch of marked counterfeits slated to be burned. Even if they somehow got away they would've been busted the moment they tried to spend any of that fake money anywhere. You were never going to be lost and they were never going to get a damn cent."

"It's unfortunate they didn't realize my true value. They greatly unsold their ransom."

Chuckling at the comment Hank agreed with the idea entirely. "And never forget it, son. Someone like you is absolutely priceless."

_**-next chapter-** _


	12. "L" is for Lost

It was such a tiny and insignificant thing to the casual eye but to Connor it was the most important thing in the world. Scouring the entire house from top to bottom the deviant tried to track down his lost quarter and reclaim it at long last. The coin was only worth twenty-five cents but to Connor it was the most valuable thing he had ever owned and possibly ever would own. A small token of when he was a machine and how the coin was supposed to merely help him calibrate his hand-eye coordination, was now seen as the very first thing he had ever truly owned and was his most priceless possession.

Laying on the livingroom floor on his stomach Connor peered under the couch for the fourteenth time that day in search of the elusive coin, but just like the previous thirteen times he's looked under the furniture the quarter was nowhere to be seen. Becoming disheartened and almost afraid that the coin was lost forever Connor pushed himself up to rest on his knees as he let out a despondent sigh.

Sumo had been trailing after Connor all day long and quickly picked up on his distress. Sitting in front of the deviant Sumo whimpered once and pressed his cold wet nose to the side of Connor's neck in a comforting manner.

"No luck, huh?" Hank had finished looking through the car to help out Connor on his search and passed through the front door in time to see Connor sitting on the floor with a somber gleam in his eyes.

"No. I'm convinced my coin isn't in the house."

"It's not in the car, either. When did you have it last?"

"The last time I used my coin to calm my thoughts I was sitting at my desk. I distinctly remember putting my quarter back into my jean pocket before clocking-out last night."

"Are those the same jeans you wearing yesterday?" Pointing at Connor's clothing Hank dared to ask him if he checked his own pockets. "Maybe you just didn't feel the coin in your pocket earlier."

"No. These are the new jeans I purchased after I endured the error with my skin sensors." Standing up from the floor Connor pulled on the collar of his green cashmere sweater as if annoyed by the new material he'd have to wear during his time off to ensure the error didn't recur. "And I checked my pockets of the jeans I was wearing yesterday after I folded the laundry."

"All I can figure is that it somehow fell out of your pocket between walking from the precinct and to the car last night. I know you checked the front lawn and everything in between, so... Yeah."

Sitting down on the couch Connor closed his eyes and slumped down as if someone just laid a smothering weight down on his shoulders.

"If you need another coin I gotta' couple just sitting on my dresser you can have."

"...Thanks, but no."

Hearing the actual sorrow in Connor's words made Hank feel like he just suggested someone go out and get a new puppy just seconds after the family dog passed away. The way the deviant was so upset about a lost coin struck a chord with Hank. It reminded him of how Cole would have crying fits over losing his favorite toy and being inconsolable. To a toddler the toys in their lives were all they had, for Connor that little coin actually was all he had to own person. Everything else in Connor's life had either been given to him or he had to buy it with his own money from the precinct, but it didn't have the same value as the coin that's been in his possession for as long as he had been alive.

"Why don't we head back to the precinct and retrace your steps?" Trying to be of some help Hank watched as even Sumo couldn't get the deviant to perk up or even react to the cold wet nose pressing into the side of his left arm. "It's probably sitting on the ground beside the parking spot."

"If I did drop it in the parking garage then it's undoubtedly gone."

Sitting down on the couch next to Connor, his leg pushing Sumo aside for a moment, Hank put his left hand on the deviant's right shoulder sympathetically. "Sorry, son."

"I feel so foolish."

"For losing something important to you?"

"For being so fixated on something as mundane as a quarter."

"Hey, whether it's a quarter or a priceless diamond, it doesn't matter. You put the value on it because it's important to you, and you have every right to be upset about losing it." Shaking Connor's shoulder a little Hank tried to get a more definitive understanding of Connor's mindset. "This is something that can't just be replaced with another coin, is it?"

"No. It was the first possession I ever owned. It was supposed to be a tool to help me do my work more efficiently, but over time... It became less of a tool and more of a piece of my identity." Flexing his right hand slowly as if hoping the coin would just magically appear Connor's tone dipped and his eyes darkened with heavy emotion. "I liked that other people would approach me and ask about my coin and the little tricks I can do. It made me feel like I had a talent and helped me stand apart from the other deviants for something other than just my model."

"Coin or not, you're still a unique individual and you have a lot of interesting talents beyond coin tricks."

Unconvinced Connor closed his eyes and bowed his head somberly. "Like what?"

"For one ALL animals love ya'. Don't think I haven't noticed you feeding stray dogs some leftover food from the breakroom when we go on patrol, or you getting your ankles rubbed by every cat that happens to be in an area where you're either investigating a crime or just going about your business. Hell, I know you befriended every dog in the dog park without even trying, and you managed to make friends with the Canadian Mountie's horse when we had that little meet-up with the authorities at the Canadian border."

"A lot of animals like people. That's not a talent."

"You're also one hell of a cook, a great mechanic, I've heard you strum that guitar of yours and I've even heard you sing a few times."

"...Sing?" Now confused instead of disappointed Connor gave his friend a searching stare. "When did I do that?"

"A few times while you were sleeping off your fever a while back. You're good!"

"Oh." Still feeling downcast Connor didn't see those talents as anything special. Rising from the couch slowly Connor made his way down the hallway and into his bedroom. "...I'm going to remotely get a headstart on my reports at the precinct."

"Yeah, okay." Letting the deviant go for a moment Hank rubbed his hand over Sumo's ears affectionately. "Feel better soon, kid."

With nothing else to do for the day Hank decided to take Sumo out on his evening walk since Connor wasn't up to it, and he didn't want the deviant to feel guilty for not taking Sumo out as per usual.

"Come on, boy." Patting the side of his leg as he walked to the front door Hank called Sumo over to him, and grabbed the leash from the hook by the front door to clip to Sumo's collar. "Let's go on a walk before it rains. I don't want you to make the house stink!"

* * *

Unfortunately for Hank he miscalculated the time it'd take him to walk to the dog park and back before the rain hit. He and Sumo got caught in the chilly deluge just one block from the house and had to jog back home to escape the storm before it became too severe. Practically slamming the front door shut behind himself as he and Sumo entered the house together Hank sighed, unclipped Sumo from the leash and motioned for the dog to go into the laundry room before he even tried to shake off his fur.

"Don't do it, Sumo." Scolding the large dog as he held onto Sumo's collar Hank made sure the massive dog went into the laundry room. "You know better!"

Licking at his nose nervously Sumo trotted into the laundry room alongside Hank and then happily shook the rain from his fur in a swift and effective motion that left Hank thoroughly soaked.

"Ah, Sumo!" Putting up his hands to protect his face Hank gave the Saint Bernard an annoyed look before he began searching for a towel. Checking the dryer first Hank found two bath towels that had been freshly laundered and used them to dry off Sumo's fur and his own face. "Do that again and I'll have you shaved to look like a damn poodle!"

Grumbling once as if insulted Sumo left the laundry room to find some food while Hank used the towels to clean up the rest of the water droplets.

"I'm never going to take Connor going on walks with Sumo for granted ever again."

Opening up the washing machine Hank made a move to drop the two damp towels down inside but something small and shiny caught his eye.

"What the hell?"

Reaching down inside the washing machine Hank picked up something thin and metallic from the bottom of the machine and grinned to himself.

"Son of a bitch."

Leaving the towels behind Hank quickly made his way to Connor's bedroom and knocked on the closed door twice before opening it even without Connor's consent. Standing in the opened doorway Hank waited for Connor to open his eyes and look over at him before he said or did anything else. The deviant was sitting on his bed mindlessly strumming the guitar he bought at a pawnshop in order to keep his hands busy until his coin was found.

"Hey, kid? Catch!" Flicking the curious object from the back of his right thumb and into the air toward Connor's direction Hank kept grinning as the deviant gracefully caught the item and stared at it with wide eyes as he carefully put his green colored guitar aside. "Look what I found in the washer. It's shinier than ever before!"

Staring at his quarter in his right palm Connor's eyes brightened up with a sense of reunion that made the dark fog in his mind vanish. "Thank you!"

"Must've fallen out of your jeans during the wash."

Dancing the coin over his right knuckles like he had been waiting his entire life for the chance Connor rose from his bed and stood before Hank as if he needed to show his full gratitude. "How'd you find it?"

"I was drying off Sumo and myself after we got caught in the rain, and I saw it sitting on the bottom of the washer."

"I can't believe I didn't think to look in there."

"Don't worry about it. And remember what I told you earlier."

Catching the coin between his index and middle fingertips Connor gave Hank his full attention. "About having more talents than coin tricks?"

"About being someone who stands out in the crowd even without your coin."

"I will." Slipping the coin protectively into his pocket Connor's mood stayed lifted and he gave Hank a kind smirk. "I'll also go clean up Sumo and the floors so you can take a shower."

Looking down at himself Hank saw how wet his clothing was and new his face and hair couldn't be looking much better. "Do I really look that messy?"

"No." Almost matter-of-factly Connor passed by Hank and into the hallway to begin cleaning up the wet footsteps throughout the house. "You smell like wet dog."

_**-next chapter-** _


	13. "M" is for Mute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by: ShozzyArt

Rubbing his right hand over the front of his bruised throat Connor patiently sat on the edge of the exam table at the Zeta Facility while Abby ran tests on his vocal processor and voice modulator to determine how severe the damage to his throat truly was. During a struggle with an unstable deviant Connor received a firm elbow to his throat that not only stunned him for a moment, but left him entirely mute as the damage disabled his voice entirely. Being unable to speak wasn't going to work with him on the clock and Captain Fowler ordered Connor to see a technician and get proper treatment before doing anything else during his shift.

Visiting Joel up in the dispensary had yielded no results since the equipment in the precinct wasn't as advanced as what could be found in a local facility. In the end Joel admitted he couldn't help Connor and told the deviant detective to go and see another technician in the city to get his answers.

"Open up." Abby instructed as she shined a penlight inside Connor's mouth and used a metallic tongue depressor to look down Connor's throat. "I can see blue inflammation from the impact, but no bleeding. That's good."

Closing his mouth Connor cybernetically sent a text to Hank's phone so the senior detective could speak on his behalf. "He wants to know if the pain he's feeling is normal." Hank held up his phone for Abby to see as he spoke. "He also wants you to know he hasn't had any difficulty in breathing."

"The pain is undoubtedly going to be a normal reaction to the physical plastimetal casing surrounding your voice modulator being fractured." Speaking directly to Connor instead of Hank behind herself Abby was able to maintain a professional demeanor. "Your throat is a little swollen too, so that's going to make it feel pretty raw for a while."

Connor sent another message and Hank read it out loud. "Do you know when his voice will come back online?"

"From anywhere between twenty-four and seventy-two hours. Your system is struggling to recalibrate your processor thanks to your self healing program focusing on the fractured modulator."

"And..." Reading one more message sent from Connor to his phone Hank asked a rather interesting question on the deviant's behalf. "Can he return to the precinct with his voice out of commission?"

"Only if you stay behind your desk and don't go out into the field. You need to also NOT try to talk for three days. If you do you might end up stagnating your healing process if not completely undoing any progress you've already made."

Only able to nod to respond Connor understood the stipulations for being able to resume work.

"Also, the bruise on your throat will clear up before the end of day." Giving Connor a warm smile Abby was confident that his system would be able to repair all the damage he sustained without needing further technical intervention. "Take it easy, don't speak and if the pain in your throat gets to be a distraction sip some chilled Thirium. It'll soothe your throat and help your self healing program work more efficiently."

While he couldn't speak Connor did easily download the appropriate information to become instantly fluent in American Sign Language, and communicated his thanks to Abby through the simple gesture with his hands.

Signing back with 'You're welcome' much to Hank's surprise Abby let Connor go for the day. "Take care of yourself, Connor."

Quickly signing back with: ' _I will try_ ', Connor slid off the exam table and gave Hank a subtle nod to let him he was ready to leave.

"Okay, kid." Pocketing his phone Hank walked with the deviant out of the exam room and down the corridor to head out of the facility. "Let's finish off our shift and you keep away from anymore flying elbows."

* * *

The rest of the day played out calmly and quietly much to Connor and Hank's mutual reliefs. The deviant who assaulted Connor would be charged accordingly and the necessary reports were all being filed accordingly. Despite being unable to verbally speak Connor was still able to communicate with Hank through his phone, by writing out messages for the other officers and detectives to read, and by using sign language with Tina - who was thrilled to have someone to talk to in a super secret language right in front of other people. It was a skill she rarely got to use anymore since her best friend from high school, was was born deaf, moved away.

Once the day came to an end Connor resumed being silent to let his voice heal and started another night of listening to music alongside Hank to learn how to truly appreciate music and everything it provided. Listening to the heavy metal and rock songs of Hank's choosing, and throwing in some choices of his own, Connor no longer felt bad about being muted for a few days.

"Just two more days and you'll be feeling much better, son." Leaning back in the recliner Hank spoke over the music and watched as Connor used his coin as a type of metronome keeping beat with the music being played out. The way Connor gracefully danced the coin about was rather impressive. "Maybe you can take this time to write a few songs of your own and play them out on your guitar."

A reply text on Hank's phone quickly shot that idea down.

"Ah, come on!" Hank read the message and was quickly disappointed. "You're a great guitarist. I'm sure whatever song you could come up with would be great to hear."

Refuting again Connor made it clear he was a little self conscious about his skills as a musician.

"New or not, you're still a great guitarist. I hope you'll change your mind and at least try to write your own song some day."

Contemplating the suggestion for a moment Connor's eyes brightened and the coin on the back of his hand came to sudden stop. Sending Hank another message Connor sought a little more information on the suggestion.

Reading the message quickly Hank smirked and shook his head. "Kid, you can write the melody and the lyrics without having to sing them out loud. Just sing them inside your head as you're writing out your song and that'll work just fine."

One more message was sent as Connor logged the idea away for the moment. ' _I'll consider it_.'

* * *

Another day of silence at the precinct went about with little activity and made things much simpler for Connor to handle as his voice healed. Using cybernetic communication with Hank's phone to talk about their reports, and signing with Tina to help explain things to other officers was an orthodox but effective method of adapting to the unusual circumstances that the deviant was being forced to endure. To shake things up for a while, what had started out as a professional, albeit silent, conversation between Connor and Tina began to build in heat and everyone knew something was up by the way the duo were staring each other down while signing.

Watching as the two officers wildly exchanged signs from their desks Hank had a feeling that Tina was trying to (sort of) talk Connor into doing something that would force him to step outside his comfort zone, and Connor was adamantly trying to stay in that very zone. More amused by the way Connor was frantically trying to get Tina to drop whatever they were discussing Hank just sat back and withheld his amused grin.

' _Come on, Connor_.' Remaining enthusiastic Tina refused to back down and kept signing to her colleague. ' _It'll be fun_!'

' _I can't even talk right now_. _I highly doubt such a gathering would be very fun for me_.'

' _Then we'll wait until your voice comes back_!' Ever optimistic Tina wouldn't take 'no' for an answers. ' _You need to join us at least one time for the sake of morale_!'

' _Morale is fine_.'

' _Not yours_! _Please_?' Flashing him pouty lips Tina tried to persuade Connor into accepting the unusual invitation at last. ' _Just one time for just one hour and I'll never ask you again_!'

Connor stopped moving his hands as he stared at Tina's face and knew that if continued to refuse she'd never let it go. '... _Very well_. _One hour_.'

' _Thank you_!'

' _Where am I to go_?'

' _Head to the "Chorus Bar & Grill" downtown tomorrow night at seven_. _I'll be there with Gavin, Chris and Julia_.'

'... _Julia_?'

' _Chris's wife is an amazing singer_! _She's your go-to when it comes to karaoke duets_.'

' _I said I'd join you tomorrow night, not that I would sing_.'

' _Spoilsport_. _But at least you'll be hanging out with us for once_.'

"Hey, Tina." Gavin interrupted the silent conversation as he motioned to the precinct's doors. "We gotta' case."

"I'm on it." Rising from her desk Tina gave Connor one last message. ' _It'll be fun and I know you'll enjoy it, even if you're just watching the show_.'

Once Tina was out of the precinct Hank dared to ask Connor what they were talking about as if he didn't already know that Tina had roped Connor into doing something he wasn't too thrilled about doing. "So... What was that all about?"

Sending a message to Hank's phone Connor replied honestly yet cryptically about their plans.

"Oh... I know that place." Hank remarked as he masterfully hid a coy smirk. "I heard they started offering Thirium-based food and drinks for deviants."

' _Good to know_.'

"You need to go, too. Don't back out."

' _I won't_.'

"You better not. And I want you to bring me back one of their legendary burgers from the bar as proof you were there, AND I want you to let Tina take a selfie with you so I know you didn't just order food and duck out early."

' _I assure you I won't try to sneak away_. _I gave Tina my word_.' Realizing what he just stated Connor's jaw ticked a little as he sent Hank another message. ' _So to speak_.'

Laughing a little Hank knew Connor was being honest and let the matter drop. "Don't worry, son. Tomorrow night your voice should be good as new. You haven't been suffering from other problems and not telling me, right?"

' _Correct_. _I am healing on schedule_.'

"Great. I miss talking to ya' and actually hearing you respond."

* * *

The following night Connor arrived at the small rather popular restaurant right on time and met Tina at the front door. Following her over to the booth where Gavin, Chris and Julia were already sitting and sharing a basket of fries Connor sat down and let Tina remind them that his voice was only just returning and he was wary of speaking at the moment. While Chris and Julia were happy to have Connor in their group for the night Gavin kept giving the deviant an annoyed side-eye until Tina stomped on his foot and told him to knock it off. After everyone had their fill for the evening and Connor got his takeout order as promised, the group began to partake in the little contest that gave the "Chorus Bar & Grill" its name.

As expected Chris and Julia sang a duet together which earned them high praise, then Gavin and Tina sang a song together that was worthy of a round of applause of their own. The booth of five patrons were tied in the mini competition for the night with a second group - the winner getting one-hundred dollars in restaurant credit and a photo on the wall of fame. The only thing that could possibly make or break the competition revolved around that booth giving one more song that swayed the restaurant's opinion in their favor.

"I'm out of songs." Tina admitted as she sipped an iced tea and eyed her competition at the other booth. "How about you, Gav'?"

"You know I only sing in duets." Sinking back in his seat Gavin declined stepping up. "My voice isn't meant for solo acts."

"Chris, Julia?" Looking at the couple across the booth Tina gave them a hopeful glance. "How about you?"

"Sorry." Chris wrapped his arm around Julia's shoulders and pulled her up against his right side. "We haven't had much time to practice anything beyond our usual five songs now that Damian's toddling."

"Damn. Guess we have to forfeit."

Gavin scoffed and waved at Connor who was sitting silently beside Tina on the side of the booth. "What about the 'Tinman'? He's been quiet all night."

Connor gave Gavin a pleading stare as he dared to try to speak up for the first time in three days; his voice sounded normal but hushed. "...I've never sung a song before."

Laughing at the comment Gavin seemed to be enjoying Connor's embarrassment. "But you still let Tina drag you out to karaoke night. That's rich! Why don't you just do an imitation of a radio instead?"

"...I cannot do that."

"Don't worry about it, Connor." Giving the deviant a reassuring grin while she punched Gavin in the shoulder Tina let Connor know he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to do. "A lot of people are too nervous to sing in front of people."

Feeling himself blush a little Connor dared to ask about Tina's confidence in him. "You sound so certain that I can actually sing."

"I know you can."

"How's that?"

"Because it's always the quiet ones who harbor the most beautiful songs. You're always so quiet and keep to yourself, so I know you have a melodious soul deep down inside of you just waiting to be heard."

Remembering what Hank had recently told him about having talents beyond his coin tricks Connor decided to test that theory and hold out his right palm as he brought up a list of songs he already knew the lyrics to. "...I can at least try to sing. But what should I pick?"

Tina was thrilled with the deviant's response and quickly scrolled through the holographic projection of songs being displayed on his palm, and honed in on one she thought would be perfect for Connor to sing. "This! 'Sound of Silence'."

"...Because I've been mute for the past three days?"

"That," Tina admitted sheepishly. "and because I know you'll nail it. Go on, step up and sing!"

Standing up from the booth Connor walked over to the stage to let the host know he was going to sing and which song he selected. He didn't hear his booth behind him discussing his decision, which was most likely for the best.

"The plastic-wonder is going to sing?" Gavin laughed again as sipped his beer. "This is going to be hilarious!"

"Just wait and see, Gavin." Tina gave her best friend a knowing glance while Chris and Julia agreed to at least give Connor a chance before saying anything about his skills. "I get the feeling you're going to snacking on some humble pie with the rest of your beer."

* * *

Late into the night, longer than the hour out he had promised Tina, Connor returned to the house with Hank's takeout order in one hand and a framed photograph in the other. Telling Hank about the night and of how he had pushed through his personal discomfort to help his friends win the competition was met with high praise. While Connor didn't get to see Gavin slink down out of a sense of shame for being easily upstaged by his vocal prowess, he could still see the trace amount of resentment on the abrasive detective's smug face when they were being photographed for the win and to be added to the restaurant's wall of fame.

Apparently Connor's rendition of the classic song in both its original version by 'Simon & Garfunkel' blending into the cover by 'Disturbed' was overkill, leading to an overwhelming lead for the win. The bar agreed that the song was the perfect tie-breaker and that the deviant managed to convey the emotions behind the lyrics perfectly.

"I'm proud of you, kid." Putting his takeout bag on the coffee table Hank clapped his hand on Connor's left shoulder and gave him a nod. "It takes a lot of guts to stand up in front of a group of strangers, let alone sing in front of them."

"I found the experience to be rather... freeing."

"If Tina invites you out again I'll tag along so I can enjoy the show."

Extending his right hand in the same way he had done at the bar Connor showed Hank a recording of the moment being shown through his own eyes, and readied the memory to be played out. "I can show you what happened tonight if you want."

"Hold on." Opening the bag of food at last Hank pulled out the lukewarm burger and unwrapped it carefully. "Okay, now play. It's not often I get dinner and a show like this."

"I hope you're not expecting this every week."

"Why not?" Taking a bite of his burger Hank leaned back and watched as the memory began to play out. "I told you that you're good!"

_**-next chapter-** _


	14. "N" is for Nightmare

A sudden yelp roused Hank from his sleep and caused him to bold upright in his bed on instinct. Listening carefully Hank honed in on the sound and recognized it as Connor's voice. The late hour of the night and the frantic pitch told the senior detective that the deviant was suffering from yet another nightmare. Connor had been suffering from nightmares on and off ever since the night of the Revolution, but as of late it seemed as if Connor's nightmares were becoming a new nightly occurrence that left the deviant thoroughly exhausted the following morning.

Climbing out of his bed Hank walked across his bedroom in the dark, opened the door and walked down the hallway to open up Connor's bedroom door to check on the deviant after hearing him yell. Seeing Connor still asleep but thrashing about in the bed was as disheartening as ever.

"Connor?" Reaching his right hand out Hank grabbed onto Connor's left shoulder and gave the deviant a gentle squeeze. "Wake up, son."

The red glowing L.E.D. flickered rapidly as Connor breathed in deeply and swiftly. Unable to hear Hank's voice that would awaken from his nightmare Connor continued to struggle against the unseen foe in his own dream.

"Connor, open your eyes!" Raising his voice Hank shook Connor's shoulder a little harder and waited for a response. "Kid! You're having a nightmare!"

As Hank's voice finally pierced through the nightmare Connor's eyes shot open and he sat upright in the bed so fast he nearly threw Hank backward where he was standing. Taking in deep and rapid breaths Connor tried to calm down his thundering heart as he processed what he had just seen. Fresh tears were welling up in his eyes and it looked like the deviant was on the verge of breaking down and crying his scared little heart out.

"It's okay." Hank lowered his voice as he sat down on the edge of the bed and kept his hand on Connor's shoulder. "You're safe."

Raising his trembling right hand to the center of his chest Connor felt his racing heart and let out a shuddering breath. "I-I know."

"Need to talk ab-"

"NO! No..." Trailing off for a moment Connor turned to look at Hank beside him and just stared with wide eyes that pierced through Hank's very being. "I'm okay. Please go back to sleep."

"No way. That was the worst nightmare you've had in months." Staying put Hank refused to let Connor alone until he knew what the hell had scared the deviant so much. "What's going on?"

"It's nothing." Refusing to talk about it Connor looked away from Hank and stared at the far wall with sad eyes. "Just a bad dream."

"Kid, you'll feel better if you tell me what's going on right now."

"I assure you it's nothing."

"All right, fine. Just know you're not the only one who deals with recurring nightmares."

"...I know." Dragging his right hand over his face Connor closed his eyes and removed his twisted and tangled blankets from over his legs so he could get up for a moment. Slowly trudging from his bedroom and into the bathroom on his shaking legs Connor turned on the tap in the sink and cupped both hands under the cool water before splashing it against his face. "I'm sorry for waking you up."

"Son, I don't care about that." Joining the deviant in the bathroom Hank put his right hand to Connor's back and kept his palm in place to ensure the deviant felt grounded. "I care about you."

"I know that as well." Drying off his face Connor turned off the water and straightened back up. "But I'm just enduring bad dreams, nothing serious."

"Okay." He didn't want to let the matter drop but Hank knew that if he pushed Connor too hard the stubborn deviant would push right back and shut himself away from the world for a while. "We still have a few hours until we need to get around for work. Will you be able to go back to sleep?"

"Yes, I'll be fine now."

"Okay. Wake me up if you need anything."

"That won't be necessary, I assure you."

* * *

As expected Connor was exhausted the next day as his interrupted rest mode resulted in Connor's power cells failing to fully recharge, and his frantic reaction to his nightmare drained what little energy he had regained before he was awoken by Hank. Being unable to multitask efficiently Connor struggled to file his reports and handle cases at his usual rapid but effective pace. The sluggish behavior was quickly noticed by Hank who patiently waited for Connor to either admit defeat and request to go home, or for him to fall asleep right at his desk.

By the time their afternoon break came around Connor was struggling to keep his attention on anything and Hank had to pull him up to his feet so they could head out of the precinct for an hour. During the drive out to the 'Chicken Feed' food stand Connor had involuntarily fallen into rest mode and Hank had no objections to letting the deviant get some needed sleep.

During his quiet hour on his lunchbreak Hank used his phone to research deviants and nightmares and ended up finding a proverbial rabbit hole of theories, facts, causes, remedies and potential treatments. Thankfully nightmares weren't uncommon in deviancy as free thoughts allowed deviants to dream, and as a result the intracranial processor struggled to back-up and store memories when the freed mind was no longer constrained by rigid commands.

"Huh... I wonder if they're working on android sleeping meds'." Putting his phone aside Hank finished his lunch and nearly jumped when Connor suddenly jerked himself awake with a panting breath. "It's okay, kid. You're in the car and fell asleep during the drive."

Glancing about Connor regained his bearings and took in a calming breath. "...R-Right. Sorry about that."

"Good thing we have tomorrow off." Remaining casual Hank didn't bring up the nightmare and didn't ask about it. "You can catch up on your sleep."

"...Maybe."

"I've finished my lunch, do you need anything before we head back?"

"No, I'm okay." Despite his energy level being low and his Thirium being used quicker than usual due to his exhausted system, Connor refused to admit that he needed anything. "Thank you."

"Well, everything should still be nice and quiet when we get back. The new android laws are really cutting down on idiots attacking deviants, and that's saving us a huge hassle with paperwork." Doing his best to maintain a sense of normalcy and patience Hank acted as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening with Connor. "We'll finish out reports and head home. Okay?"

"Y-Yeah." Running a self diagnostic Connor noted his low power level and knew he wouldn't be able to stay awake for too much longer. "That's okay."

* * *

The evening at the house remained quiet and Hank chose to catch up on some reading shortly after Connor expectedly fell asleep on the couch during the classic film being shown on television. By all account Connor was sleeping peacefully and didn't seem to be experiencing any form of distress, but that soon changed when Sumo lifted his head up from his pillow in the corner of the livingroom and let out a nervous whimper. The moment Sumo rose to his paws Hank closed his book and rose from the recliner to grab onto Connor's shoulders the moment the deviant began to struggle in his sleep.

Just as Hank reached the side of the couch Connor put his forearms up in front of himself and let out a loud yelp of 'NO!' that made Hank's own heart begin racing in empathetic panic. Taking firm hold of the deviant's shoulders Hank held tight and called Connor's name loud enough to pierce through the nightmare and reach his ears.

"Connor! Connor, it's okay!" Kneeling beside the couch Hank did his best to rouse the deviant. "You're sa-" Silenced as Connor bolted awake and suddenly wrapped his arms around his shoulders Hank just reciprocated the hug and held tight. "Easy, son... You're okay."

Connor took a moment to realize what he was doing and retracted his arms as if ashamed of his outburst. With tears rolling down his face Connor looked away from Hank and closed his eyes.

"Hey, it's okay."

"I-I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry."

"For what? Hugging me isn't a big deal."

"...I shouldn't have grabbed you like that."

"Connor," sitting down on the coffee table beside the couch Hank refused to let Connor beat himself up over having a nightmare. "I have to ask. What are you seeing and why does it scare you so bad?"

"I... I don't want to say."

"Kid, you have to do it. You're getting to the point where your nightmares are going to completely affect your waking life." Keeping his left hand on Connor's right shoulder Hank encouraged him to speak up. "It's okay to tell me. I won't judge you."

Quiet for a moment longer Connor never looked at Hank as he finally told Hank the truth. "...I keep seeing myself doing something horrible."

"What did you do?"

"Hank..." Pulling his knees up to his chest Connor wrapped his arms around legs and lost the battle against restraining his own tears. "...I killed you!"

"You... killed me?" Perplexed by the response Hank took a moment to process what Connor said and just stared at the deviant. "In your nightmare?"

Nodding his head a little Connor confirmed the origin of his statement and dragged the back of his left hand over his eyes. "I killed you, Hank."

"In your NIGHTMARE, son. Not in real life!"

"I pulled a gun on you and I shot you! I shot you right in the heart and you... You begged me to let you live but I-"

"Shh..." Grabbing onto Connor again Hank pulled the deviant up against his chest to hug him and knew that the deviant would be able to hear his calm heartbeat confirming that he was in fact alive. Holding tight Hank didn't let Connor break away for even a moment. "I'm okay, son. I'm alive and you never hurt me. I'm okay, you're okay... We're BOTH okay."

Connor could in fact hear Hank's heartbeat and he could feel the warmth emanating from the senior detective's embrace. Slowly wrapping his arms around Hank to return the hug Connor leaned heavily against his best friend as his tears continued to fall.

"You know, I've had nightmares of hurting the people I care about, too." Speaking honestly and in a comforting tone Hank made it clear that Connor's nightmares weren't anything to feel ashamed of or directly responsible for. "It comes from the stress of the job and the urge to protect the world from itself."

"...How do you make them stop?"

"By talking about them. It feels strange, I know, but talking does help."

"There's nothing to talk about." Beginning to shake and sounding absolutely horrified Connor struggled to heed Hank's invaluable advice. "In my nightmares I become a machine again, pull my gun on you and I pull the trigger as you plead with me to let you live."

"When did these nightmares start?"

"Can't remember."

"Bullshit, kid. You remember everything." Patting Connor's back lightly Hank did his best to get the shaken deviant to open up. "Come on, tell me."

"...Since the night of the Revolution."

"That long? Damn."

"That's when the first one happened. The others seem to happen after we deal with any homicide cases revolving around deviants and humans together. Now it just seems to be a recurring nightmare simply because we're only filing reports based on our past most violent cases."

"Makes sense to me."

Loosening his grip on the hug for a second Connor used his thumb to wipe away his tears as Hank's comment sank in. "...It does?"

"Yeah. My worst nightmares always popped up after I dealt with homicides revolving families. The ones with kids... That's the shit that'll drive a man to drink."

"I'm sorry you had such horrible nightmares."

"Thanks, kid. I just remind myself that they're not real and they can't hurt me or anyone else I care about."

"You make it sound so easy to get over them."

"I wish they were easy to deal with. Like I said, talking helps."

Letting up on the hug at last Connor sank back against the couch cushions used the collar of his t-shirt to clean his face. "Thank you."

"No problem. Need to keep talking?"

"...I think so."

"Okay. Then talk when you're ready and I'll listen." Putting his hand to the back of Connor's hair Hank sighed and looked at how dark Connor's eyes were and knew the poor kid was exhausted. "You need to sleep without fear. It's been a week since you slept through the night."

Nodding in agreement Connor stretched his legs back out for a moment before repositioning himself so Hank could sit down on the couch beside him. "I'd like to be able to close my eyes without seeing my best friend covered in blood."

"You and every other person on this planet, son." Patting his lap Hank called over Sumo who happily leapt up onto the couch and sprawled out over both detectives' laps as if waiting for his cue to join them. "Whenever you're ready to talk, start."

Petting Sumo's ears Connor leaned back and let out a deep breath. "It's not a pleasant description."

"We're detectives. Nothing about what we see and do every day is pleasant, so don't even worry about it. Just talk."

* * *

It wasn't until the very early hours of the morning that Connor was able to fall back asleep and stay asleep without fear of his nightmares disturbing him every few minutes. Sleeping on the couch with Sumo on his legs and Hank sleeping in the nearby recliner, Connor was able to finally get some rest without being rudely awoken by horrible sounds, images and ideas conjured up by his own nightmares. Sleeping soundly for the first time in a full week Connor didn't react when Sumo jumped down from the couch and plodded into the kitchen, or even twitch when the large dog pawed at the backdoor asking to go out.

Hank had heard the scratching sound and awoke with a deep yawn. Grateful to see Connor asleep and not in any distress Hank walked into the kitchen to let Sumo outside, fill up the dog's bowls and then let Sumo back inside before he returned to the recliner to sleep for a while longer. It wasn't the first time Hank had stayed up with a kid after enduring a horrible nightmare, but he hadn't anticipated having to do so for a deviant he took on as a partner and honorary son.

By the time noon rolled around Hank was awake again and Connor was still asleep. He could see that Connor's red L.E.D. was finally cycling in yellow with intermittent flashes to blue, indicating that he was sleeping peacefully and restoring his lost power.

"Good, stay like that."

Silently getting up from the recliner again Hank walked around the back of the couch, took the blue blanket draped over the furniture and then gently draped it over Connor's form to ensure he stayed warm and comfortable as he slept. It was a simple gesture but it was enough to finally turn the L.E.D. back to blue.

"I promise you that you're safe here, son. And I know you'd never hurt me."

Sumo grumbled from the kitchen as he pawed at the backdoor again just as a small rumble of thunder hinted to an incoming rainstorm.

"You on the other hand are going to be the death of me, Sumo."

Walking into the kitchen again Hank rubbed the massive dog's soft ears and sighed as he opened the backdoor. The smell of rain was thick in the air and a gust of wind confirmed that the city was about to get drenched.

"I'd rather deal with nightmares than wet dog smell any day of the week..."

_**-next chapter-** _


	15. "O" is for Overwhelmed

A surge in 'red ice' sales had caused a frightening increase in overdoses that left the humans petrified and the deviants on edge. The new self proclaimed 'Red Ice King' was quickly flooding the streets with his poison and the increase in drugs forced Hank to set up another task force to knock the king off his throne before he wiped out half the city with his drugs. In turn Connor had to take on the full responsibility for the deviant division, which meant working alone while handling report after report of deviants being assaulted by high humans who were paranoid about their deviant neighbors ratting them out to the police, or by suffering from bouts of violent mania.

Dealing with the ironic reports as the deviants were minding their own business until they were in fact assaulted, Connor worked quickly and diligently to handle each case appropriately and professionally. Processing fourteen separate claims of assault all before noon Connor had to cybernetically prioritize which cases needed to handled based on severity, and request arrest warrants for each person who assaulted the deviants without any cause.

After processing the fourteenth case Connor received word of a fifteenth, sixteenth and seventeenth report of assault in progress, and had been requested to the scenes to analyze each one and document them. Using a squad car in favor of the Oldsmobile Connor arrived at each scene in order of their complaints and had to help subdue two of the humans who remained at the latter scenes before they harmed anyone else.

Exhausted and feeling like he was swimming upstream Connor returned to the precinct in time to assist Chris with manhandling a disgruntled 'red ice' dealer into a holding cell, and then helped Ben console a deviant who lost her bondmate after she was attacked and killed by another high human while Connor was out on call. The physical strain followed by the emotional turmoil on top of his mental exhaustion was beginning to prove to be too much for the deviant to take.

"This is getting out of hand..."

Connor sighed to himself as he returned to his terminal to upload his newest cases and all of the evidence he had collected. The reports were stacking up quickly and it began to look less and less like Connor could handle the weight of his responsibilities to the city, to his people, and his partner.

"So much chaos is being caused by a single human's greed. How can one person cause so much mayhem?"

The heavy workload continued throughout the day and well into the night. Not only was Connor forced to work overtime as more and more deviants came forward with either reports of being assaulted, witnessing assaults or witnessing drug deals going down, but he had to help pick up the slack as the narcotics division was being run ragged by all of the tips flooding the precinct.

By the time the next morning fell over the city Connor had singlehandedly interviewed, reported, filed and documented claims by a total of ninety-three different deviants all in search of justice. Running on low power Connor aimlessly sat at his desk and stared through his terminal screen as if waiting for a second round of carnage to greet his eyes at any second.

The way the reports were being actively filed, the phones were ringing, voices were talking, the televisions dotted around the bullpen were all detailing the surge in the 'red ice' and assault problems throughout the city, and the lack of an actual break were getting to the deviant in a way that was making his Thirium pump begin to thunder in his chest. Feeling a strange heat beginning to radiate from his core and his mind begin to preconstruct hundreds of potential outcomes that all ended in disaster against his will, Connor knew he was starting to suffer from a new emotional experience that wasn't positive.

Unable to stop thinking or slow down his racing heartbeat Connor forced himself to stand up from his desk, walk down the corridor and duck into a vacant interview room to get away from the overwhelming bullpen for just a moment. Dropping into a chair inside the dark and quiet room Connor buried his face in his hands and hunkered down as if trying to disappear into himself.

A few rogue tears of frustration filled his soulful brown eyes but Connor refused to let them fall. Keeping his eyes closed he fought to take in slower breaths and ease the frantic pace of his racing heart. Everything he just saw, heard and took part of was repeating in his mind over and over again like a broken record. He had done everything that was expected of him and yet Connor couldn't help but feel as though he was failing to uphold his responsibilities to his people. It was as if he was being watched and judged from a hidden pair of eyes peering down on him from high above.

Unsure of how long he had been hiding away from the world Connor jumped and nearly threw a punch at the hand that had come to rest on his right shoulder.

"Whoa, easy..." Hank whispered as he saw the distant look in Connor's soulful brown eyes. "Didn't mean to scare you."

"Sorry." Embarrassed by his reaction Connor slumped his tense shoulders and took in another deep breath. "...I just needed a moment to myself."

"It's not easy handling an entire division by yourself." Sympathizing with his partner's plight Hank sat down int he vacant chair beside Connor and continued to speak in a low and calming voice. "But you're doing just fine."

"It doesn't feel like I'm doing a fine job."

"It never does." From under his palm Hank could feel Connor's body shaking thanks to the deviant's Thirium pump beating so hard. "Want to go hide in the dispensary for a while and talk to Joel?"

"No. I just want to stay away from other people for a while."

"I get that. There's no shame in needing to find a solace after being overwhelmed. You might end up overlooking something important, snapping at someone, calling people by the wrong name or could even forget what you're doing entirely. You did the right thing by taking a mini break like this."

Relieved to know what he was feeling wasn't abnormal Connor tried to calm his thoughts by focusing on something else for a while. "How's your task force doing?"

"We're narrowing down the location of the asshole's hideout. Based on what witnesses have said, the locations of his overdose victims and the areas that the other dealers have been arrested, we have a search area triangulated and are sweeping the streets with unmarked patrol cars and undercover officers."

"That's good. I'm glad you're making progress."

"You're making progress, too. Helping deviants get their justice is just as important as pulling a drug kingpin off the streets. You're doing great."

"It doesn't feel like it's enough. I don't feel like I'm doing enough or properly handling everything I need to handle."

"That's because you're still feeling overwhelmed." Staying beside the deviant in a protective manner Hank waited for Connor to make the first move. "It's okay. It happens to us all at least once. I know I've gone into hiding a few times when things started to really pile up and come crushing down."

Such a confession wasn't one Connor was expecting to hear. "You did?"

"Yup. There's a reason why so many officers go to the locker rooms to shower off even if they didn't get covered in shit on the job. It's private, no one goes snooping around down there and the shower can drown out any sounds if you end up breaking down for a moment."

"...I'll keep that in mind."

"Go back out to the bullpen only when you're ready, son. You feeling confident and ready to focus on your tasks again is far more important than any potential deadline you might give yourself." Giving Connor's shoulder a reassuring shake Hank remained confident in Connor's ability to handle challenge that came his way. "If you need to talk or go back into hiding let me know. You can handle this shit and come out clean on the other side, kid. I know you can."

"Thank you, Hank." Letting out a soft sigh Connor felt himself beginning to calm down and regain a sense of normalcy. "I'll be okay."

"Good. Hopefully I'll see you before evening so we can clock-out and go back home at the same time."

"That'd be a nice sense of normalcy. Thanks."

As Hank took his leave of the interview room Connor steadied his mind and rose from the chair to resume his shift as per usual. While he didn't feel as though he was ready to go back out and handle more chaos while also cleaning up another person's mess, Connor knew that his city and his people trusted him to do the right thing by everyone.

"I can do this."

Whispering to himself Connor straightened his black tie and smoothed out his gray blazer as he stepped out of the room and into the corridor. What once was a feeling overwhelming stress and pressure had now been replace by a sense trust and confidence.

"I'm not alone and I can do this. Hank trusts me and my people have faith in me, I _can_ do this."

* * *

Exhausted and eager to power down for the night Connor trudged through the front door, greeted Sumo and let the dog outside through the backdoor at long last. It was nearly midnight and Connor had to work a second round of overtime to finish all of his reports properly. Standing by the wide open backdoor Connor watched Sumo prancing about the backyard and heard the Oldsmobile pull into the driveway beside the house. Turning to face the front door while staying near the backdoor Connor watched as Hank returned home and locked the front door behind him.

"I heard the good news." Connor called out enthusiastically from the kitchen. "You found him."

"Yeah, the prick is going to rot behind bars for sixty years if he's lucky." Dropping his coat and shoes by the front door Hank leaned against the back of the couch as if his back was killing him. "Otherwise, he'll be executed for killing twenty-seven people and leaving thirty-three more with permanent brain damage from that shit he put on the street."

"It's hard to feel sorry for someone like that."

"Some people aren't worthy of any pity. So," straightening up again Hank looked at the deviant as Connor rubbed Sumo's ears affectionately. "how'd your cases go?"

"Successfully. I managed to finish my reports and ensure every deviant had their voice heard."

"Good work, son. I knew you could do it."

"Thanks for saying so d-, Hank." Catching himself before he misspoke Connor tried to feign ignorance of his own near slip-up. "If I feel tired then I know that you're exhausted. You should go to bed."

"That's the best idea I've heard all damn day." Waving his hand toward Connor in a casual manner Hank made his way down the hallway and toward his bedroom to retire for the night. "See ya' in the morning, son."

"Goodnight."

Finished with taking care of Sumo and feeding the massive dog Connor went to his own bedroom, sprinkled some fish food into the small aquarium beside his bed and prepared to get ready for rest mode. As he removed his tie Connor sat on the edge of his bed and thought back to his own near mistake moments ago in the kitchen.

"...Why did I nearly address Hank by a different term?"

Thinking back on the whole exhausting ordeal of handling so many cases at once Connor sighed and remembered what Hank said in the precinct.

"I must still be overwhelmed in some capacity, that's why I almost misspoke. I'm sure I'll be back to optimal parameters in the morning."

_**-next chapter-** _


	16. "P" is for Paternal

The daily activity at the precinct had become momentarily hectic as the arrest of the newest 'red ice king' brought a lot of attention to the officers responsible for the successful discovery and apprehension of the dangerous man. As more and more officers, detectives and other high ranking officials throughout the city gathered at the precinct tensions began to steadily rise. While a majority of the visiting officers were eager to praise Hank and his most recent task force on a job well done, a few other officers were more interested in comparing their successes to the success of other officers and effectively began to turn the positive mood negative.

Wanting to keep away from any potential and unnecessary conflicts Connor kept to himself in a vacant interview room and proceeded to remotely work on his daily reports. It didn't take long for Connor's absence to be noticed and unfortunately he was noticed by a particularly salty Lieutenant from the Northern Precinct who still harbored a grudge against androids.

"Funny, isn't it?" The older man honed his aged amber brown eyes on Connor as the deviant kept to himself in the empty interview room. Being of a broad built with a height to match, and graying hair that spoke volumes of the stress he had endured while on the force, gave Lieutenant Ironside a truly intimidating presence. "You're the android who's supposed to me the most advanced ever created, and yet your human partner succeeded where you failed."

Looking up at the doorway where the gruff Lieutenant was standing Connor gave him a questioning glance before answering. "Hank has succeeded in the past in regards to bringing down 'red ice' dealers long before I had even been created. I didn't fail to do something a human could, I was simply assigned a different task since Hank would undoubtedly succeed with or without my input."

Scowling at the way Connor deflected the needless insult Ironside took a step toward the deviant with aggression exuding in his body language. "Are you getting smart with me?"

"No. I'm merely explaining that I had no effect on the final outcome of Hank's successful-"

"That's LIEUTENANT ANDERSON, you disrespectful piece of plastic!"

"...Lieutenant Anderson is my partner and my friend." Standing up from the chair Connor boldly stood before Ironside and didn't blink. "He requested that I refer to him by his name and not his rank. Apparently he's far less insecure than you."

"You mouthy-" Backhanding Connor violently and swiftly Ironside struck Connor in the mouth and quickly drew Thirium by the abrupt strike. "You better learn-"

"You motherfucker!" Hank had heard Ironside's voice and had come to investigate as his curiosity as a detective had been piqued. The moment he heard the unmistakable sound of someone being hit his paternal side came out and he grabbed Ironside by the collar of his shirt and pinned him up against the wall by the door to get him away from Connor. "You just struck an officer!"

"Whoa! He was-"

"Shut up!" Keeping Ironside pinned against the wall Hank turned to look at Connor over his left shoulder. The way Connor was cupping his bloody mouth in his right palm made Hank's own blood boil with pure anger. "Why in the fuck did you hit my partner? He's just a kid!"

"It was being a mouthy little shit, and I needed-"

"Did you just refer to Connor as 'it'? Did you just call someone who's been declared a living being as an ' _it_ '?"

Swallowing nervously Ironside realized his bigotry had just shown through and he couldn't deny it.

"You son of a bitch!" Tightening his grip on Ironside's collar Hank was on the verge of strangling the man out of pure resentment. "You attacked him because he's a deviant!" Letting Ironside go Hank shoved the bigot out of the interview room and into the corridor where the other officers in the bullpen were waiting to see what was happening. "Fuckin' asshole! Explain why you just hit a fellow officer!"

"Look, you're-"

"Tell me why you hit Connor!"

Unable to answer without making himself look like the villain he truly was Ironside just backed away and bumped into Captain Fowler in the process.

"Ironside, get in my office." Captain Fowler ordered as he looked at Hank practically guarding the door to the interview room. "Hank, get Connor's statement on a tablet, have the incident uploaded and send it to my terminal." Noticing the smear of fresh blue blood on the back of Ironside's right hand Captain Fowler knew that his officer had been injured with no just cause. "Then take Connor up to the dispensary for treatment and further injury documentation."

"Yeah, sure..." Turning around Hank returned to the interview room to check on Connor more directly. Lightly cupping the deviant's chin with his right hand Hank managed to push Connor's own hand aside as he inspected the deviant's mouth. "Let me see, son. It's okay, let me see."

Opening his mouth Connor let Hank examine his teeth for any sign of physical damage. "...My self diagnostic confirms no significant damage to my person."

"That's a lot of blood."

"He ruptured a Thirium line in the roof of my mouth leading to my lips."

"Damn. What the hell happened?"

After explaining the confrontation and uploading his memory to the tablet to have sent to Captain Fowler's terminal Connor pressed a clean tissue to his lips to mop of the blood while Hank escorted him to the dispensary on the second floor. With his ruptured line repaired and the bleeding stopped Connor was dismissed from the dispensary and free to go about his business as usual.

"Ironside's had a problem with androids longer than anyone I know." Hank confirmed as he and Connor returned to the bullpen. "I should've known he was going to try to push a deviant around at his first opportunity. I'm sorry he focused on you, kid."

"It's not your fault." Speaking without any problems despite being attacked moments ago Connor made sure that Hank didn't feel guilty for what he had endured. "Ironside clearly has issues that he needs to work through."

"Yeah, and that's why Fowler is demanding that Ironside take early retirement with half pension, otherwise he'll get fired and lose everything."

"All because of me?"

"No, you're just the final straw. The prick has assaulted at least a dozen androids in the past and had been threatened to knock that shit off every time or it'd be his badge. He never learned and had been given WAY too many chances in the past to shape up as it is."

"That's unfortunate."

"Come on. Fowler has given us the rest of the day off." Motioning toward the front doors of the precinct Hank motioned for Connor to join him. "It's also a nice day. We should find something interesting to do since we actually have an afternoon free to do whatever we want."

"What do you want to do?"

"I dunno'. I really only do things in the afternoon when I have an assignment or a chore list." Walking toward the parking garage neighboring the precinct Hank glanced about the city on the warm spring day and tried to think of something fun to do. The only ideas that came to mind revolved around the things that he and Cole used to do when the little boy was still alive. "...I'm drawing a blank here."

Connor could see an emotional conflict welling up in Hank's eyes and knew that he did in fact have something in mind, he just didn't want to say it. Trusting his gut on what he was certain Hank was thinking about Connor decided to prompt it and see how he'd react. "I haven't see Riverside Park in the spring or summertime yet. It really does have a nice view of the Ambassador Bridge, too."

"...Yeah. It does."

"We don't have to-"

"No, it's fine." Clearing his throat a little Hank nodded and unlocked the doors on the Oldsmobile. "We've been stuck inside the damn precinct for weeks on end anyway. It'll be nice to be outside and get some fresh air."

* * *

The park was busy as expected but neither Hank or Connor minded the noise of people talking and children laughing as they ran around while playing games. Walking through the park the duo found the very bench where Hank had sat in silence after their unusual case at the now defunct 'Eden Club' the previous winter, and reclaimed that particular area for their own to peer out over the river and watch the shining bridge in the distance. Something about seeing the connection between the United States of America reaching into Canada was symbolic of their friendship; one group of people reaching out to peacefully coexist with another.

Sitting on the bench side by side Hank rubbed his palms together and stared out at the bridge with an inquisitive stare. It was as if he was contemplating the bridge's very existence.

"For what it's worth..." Speaking up in such a way that Connor turned his head to silently to listen to Hank for a moment, Hank apologized to the deviant for his misdeeds in the past. "I'm sorry I pulled my gun on you. You know... Last November when we came here after that murder in the club."

"I understand that-"

"Nope. No understanding this time, kid." Hank refused to let Connor dismiss the moment as a simple inconvenience. "I was wrong and I'm sorry for doing that."

"...While I don't feel like I'm owed any apology I will accept it if it'll make you feel better."

"It does."

"Then, I accept your apology and you're forgiven."

"Thanks, son."

Actually feeling a tension leave Hank as they sat together on the bench Connor thought about how much better Hank had been treating him ever since they befriended each other since the past November. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. I've never stopped ya' before."

"Back in the precinct when you pulled Lieutenant Iron-"

"DISGRACED Lieutenant Ironside, don't forget it."

"...Right. At any rate, when you pulled him away from me you got in his face and shouted about him assaulting me. You also stated 'he's just a kid' in reference to myself. But... I'm not."

Bowing his head a little Hank let a soft chuckle escape his lips as he responded to the odd observation. "Yeah, ya' are. You may not be a human but you are a kid. Not even a year old, yet..."

"Is that really how you see me? A kid?"

"More like a fresh-faced college student who's trying to find his place in the world." Hank clarified with a good spirited grin on his face. "When I call you 'kid' I mean someone young and inexperienced, not necessarily a child. Does it bother you?"

"No, not at all. It's better than being called 'plastic', 'freak' or 'machine'."

"Anyone calling you those names in the precinct?"

"Not as of late. It's changed considerably, but I still know I'm not exactly welcome there."

"If that were true then Tina wouldn't have invited you to hang out and have some fun at that restaurant."

"I suppose that's true." Tilting his head a little to the side Connor asked his friend something else. Something more important. "Can I ask you one more question?"

"Shoot. What's on your mind?"

"I've noticed that... You also often refer to me as 'son'." Unsure if his question was out of line or not Connor was hesitant to ask. "Can I ask why?"

Pausing momentarily Hank took in a deep breath and straightened up again as he looked Connor in the eyes. "It's just a habit, I guess. Once a father always a father."

"I see." Such a situation was very perplexing to the still learning deviant. "Strange."

"Why's that strange?"

"You use terms of endearment toward me but all I do is refer to you by name, and when necessary, rank. I never call you anything else."

"You don't have to give me a nickname or anything. Just 'Hank' is fine."

"I'd like to thank you for allowing me such a formality. I like being able to call you by name and not rank as so many other superior officers do."

"No problem, kid. Besides, I only care about rank when it comes to my paychecks or scaring the shit out of arrogant rookies who need to be reminded of where they stand in the precinct."

Rubbing his left palm along his left cheek Connor still felt a dull ache from being struck and then dropped his hand. "As long as you remind them verbally and not physically, I don't mind."

"Nah, I only hit people when they deserve it. I don't hit other detectives for being smartasses in the faces of dumbasses."

"Good to know, otherwise I'd have to learn how to duck."

"Or start wearing a helmet." Leaning back against the bench Hank closed his eyes and let the warm breeze pass over him in a gentle manner. The beautiful warm day as spring turned to summer reminded Hank of the countless hours he'd spend in the park with Cole, and was glad that he was able to go back and find some form of peace in the park while spending time with Connor. "We should come out to the park more often. Being here helps me clear my mind and make all the problems in the world disappear for a moment."

"I'm okay with doing that." Watching the cars in the distance racing along the bridge Connor pulled his coin from his jean pocket and began dancing it rhythmically over the back of his knuckles. "It's nice to have a sanctuary to escape to when you feel overwhelmed. Right?"

"That's right. Glad you're paying attention."

"Hard not to when I'm constantly in the presence of a wise sage."

Laughing at the comment Hank shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "I've been called far worse than a 'wise sage'. I kinda' like that."

_**-next chapter-** _


	17. "Q" is for Quilt

The summer days were warm but the nights were surprisingly cold. While Connor relished the warmth of the day he dreaded the colder nights as if he were going to endure an eternal winter tundra. While the rest of the city went about their days in shorts, skirts, tank tops and even swimming wear, Connor still wore his jeans and a t-shirt no matter how hot it got outside. Every night when the sun disappeared and the chilly air returned over Detroit like a tide washing over the shore Connor would wear a thick black hoodie, and would resist the urge to turn up the heat inside the house.

Hank had noticed Connor's odd and extreme reactions to the cold air and decided to ask him about it in a rather casual manner as they enjoyed a small bonfire in the backyard. Roasting his hotdog on the metal rod Hank looked to Connor and watched as the deviant tucked his hands into the front pocket of the hoodie he refused to part with.

"Nice night, huh?" Turning the hotdog so it didn't burn Hank gave the deviant a curious glance. "It's quiet except for a few crickets chirping, no clouds in the sky so you might actually be able to see a star or two, and we didn't have any bullshit at the precinct today."

"Yes, it's very pleasant."

"Should I put another log on the fire?"

"No, the bonfire is burning just fine."

"Want to move closer to it?"

"No." Arching his brow a little Connor gave Hank a confused stare. "I'm comfortable where I am. Why would I move closer?"

"You just look a little cold, that's all." Wearing a pair of khaki shorts and a red Hawaiian shirt over a white t-shirt made Hank look far more casual than Connor did at that moment. "What's with the hoodie and jeans?"

"I just find this attire to be the most comfortable."

"I don't know how you can stand being bundled up like that in the August heat. It'd drive me crazy."

"The cold is very unpleasant and I wish to avoid it at all cost."

"You'd think you just fell in a freezing lake the way you're bundled up." Finishing with his hotdog Hank put it on a bun and then tossed a raw hotdog over to Sumo to eat as he remained hunkered down under Connor's lawn chair near the bonfire. "Is that a deviant thing?"

"Possibly. For the moment I just know it's a 'me-thing'."

"You know you're safe, right? That Amanda bitch can't get to ya' or make you do anything you don't want to do."

"...I know."

"And she can't trap ya' in that weird blizzard thing anymore."

"Yes, I know that, too."

"I don't mean to pry, but-"

"No, I'm not having nightmares about her or the storm. I'm just... I just feel cold all the time."

"Weird." Taking a bite of his hotdog Hank remained casual and did his best to make sure Connor didn't feel strange about his preferences. "Guess that makes sense for you to feel cold all the time. I actually feel hot all the time, that's why I can walk around wintertime in Detroit with just my coat and not a hat, gloves or boots."

"Your core temperature isn't abnormally high, it's average to that of the typical human body."

"Doesn't mean I don't feel hot all the time."

"Fair enough."

Stirring the fire a little Hank leaned back in his lawn chair and stared upward the inky black night sky above. "Want to stay out here for a while longer or go inside and try to find a shitty movie to make fun of?"

"We can do both. It's pleasant out and we rarely get the chance to escape being inside the precinct all day."

"Sounds good to me, son."

* * *

Waking up the following morning earlier than usual Hank rose from his bed and decided to enjoy as much as his day off as possible. Before stepping into the shower to freshen up for the day Hank noticed that Connor's bedroom door was partially open, undoubtedly to let Sumo out if he wanted out, and then noticed that Connor was sleeping peacefully and had Sumo passed out over his ankles. The sight of the deviant being entirely content and calm with a family pet made Hank realize how human the deviant was becoming as his days as a deviant proceeded.

It was amazing how something as simple as a dog could be enough to help someone feel more secure and confident.

"Keep Sumo close, kid."

Entering the bathroom Hank closed the door behind himself and started the shower.

"I rather have him keep you warm than drool all over my feet."

Throughout the morning the summer heat began to build and Hank noted the day on the calendar with a smirk. The date was something special to Connor even if he wouldn't admit it, and Hank had been waiting for that day for a few months. Reaching into the closet's top shelf in his bedroom Hank located the small gift box he had hidden from Connor and quickly took notice of the old chocolate brown quilt sitting beside it.

"...I almost forget about that thing."

Holding the box in his hand Hank eyed the quilt and had an interesting idea pop in his head.

"I may have found a way to help Connor feel more secure without needing to nose into his business."

* * *

Finishing his morning walk with Sumo, the massive Saint Bernard quickly being overwhelmed by the heat, Connor let Sumo inside the house and gave him a large bowl of cool water to drink in the kitchen. Running his hand down Sumo's back Connor noted the dog's vital signs to make sure he wasn't going to become ill from the heat and sensed Hank staring at him from the livingroom. Looking up at the senior detective standing beside the bookcase in the livingroom Connor noted the focused stare in Hank's eyes with utter intrigue.

"...Is something wrong, Hank?"

"Nope. I was just waiting for you to come back home so I could give something to ya'."

"Oh?" Walking into the livingroom Connor continued to stare at Hank's face while keeping his arms folded over his chest. The black hoodie was still keeping the deviant covered even in the summer heat. "What's that?"

"This." Passing Connor the small white box Hank watched as Connor removed the lid and eyed the contents within. "It's, uh, not much. But I figured that it'd be something you'd appreciate."

"Hank, this is exquisite." Picking up the shining half dollar coin from the box Connor eyed it was truly appreciation. "Thank you."

"Look at both sides. The 'tails' side has a Saint Bernard and the 'heads' side..."

"Is this... Is this me?"

"Yup. You now have a one of kind coin with your likeness on it."

"This is truly interesting, I like it."

"Figured you'd like that."

"But... What's the occasion?"

"Really?"

"...Yes, really." Dancing the new coin over his right fingertips Connor recalibrated his processors to adapt to the half dollar coin rather than a quarter. "I don't understand the significance of this day."

"Okay. What's today's date?"

"August 15th, 2039."

"Uh-huh. And what happened on this day one year ago?"

Catching the coin in his right palm Connor gave Hank a stunned glance as he answered honestly. "...I was activated."

"In other words, you were born. Happy birthday, son."

"But androids don't-"

Holding up his hand to 'shush' Connor before he had the chance to refute the idea Hank explained his reasoning. "Son, you don't have to born to have a birthday."

"...That's literally the opposite. To have a birthday one must be birthed, and if you're not birthed you are not born."

"All right, all right. Listen here, smartass." Giving the deviant a knowing look Hank wouldn't back down. "A lot of kids are born through a c-section, so they aren't birthed they're extracted. Right?"

"I suppose that's true."

"But do we deny people born in such a way a birthday?"

"No, of course not."

"And not every person is conceived naturally. Some people are only hear through scientific interference and bioengineering techniques, right?"

"That is also correct."

"When it comes to androids aren't you created with scientific interference and bioengineering techniques, too?"

"...We are. But we-"

"Nope. You guys do in fact have birthdays even if you're not born in any traditional sense."

"...I cannot argue with your logic."

"Ha! Knew I'd win one at least once." Putting his hand on Connor's shoulder Hank gave the deviant a small shake. "That coin is to commemorate your first birthday and as an additional gift to you, I'm keeping this little thing quiet so you don't get ambushed with a surprise party at the precinct. I know you'd prefer to keep a low profile and not say a word about this and get a bunch of attention."

"Thank you again." Opening his hand Connor looked at the coin in his palm and grinned at the sight of Sumo on the 'tails' side of the new piece. "I appreciate you doing something like this for me and for not drawing any unwanted attention toward my person. I believe it's safe to say I'm not a party-person."

"Me neither."

"Then let's just party in our own way and keep it low profile."

"I like that idea."

"And I know for a fact that there's a crappy movie marathon scheduled for tonight. You interested?"

"Very." Grateful for the way Hank truly understood him and respected his preference of a more introverted nature Connor was happy to just stay in the house during their final day off and enjoy a quiet and very discreet birthday celebration. "That's something I believe I'll enjoy."

* * *

The hot summer day and cool summer night continued on without incident and the two detectives retired to the livingroom to find something entertaining to watch. As the movie marathon played out Hank took a moment to catch his breath after laughing at the ridiculousness of the cheap sci-fi movie from the 1950s and decided to go make some popcorn to snack on. Finding the entire premise laughable and over the top Hank was able to get Connor to chuckle a few times when he cracked a couple jokes at the movies' expense, and he even got the deviant to relax enough on the couch that he rolled up the sleeves of his hoodie as if finally feeling warm for the first time in days.

While he waited for the bag of popcorn to finish popping in the microwave Hank headed down the hallway into his bedroom and opened up the closet to relocate the quilt he had only recently remembered existed. Reaching up to the top shelf he pulled down the chocolate brown quilt that he used to wrap up with his late wife and son during the harsh winter weather and felt the memories coming flooding back into his heart. It had been put away after he lost his family but he couldn't bear to throw it out.

Carrying the quilt with him down the hallway Hank casually draped it over the back of the couch and returned to the kitchen when the microwave stopped and his popcorn finished. Acting as normal as possible while Connor took notice of the offered item Hank poured his popcorn into a bowl and returned to the livingroom with his snack in his hands.

"Hank..." Putting his new coin in his jean pocket Connor held up the quilt with both hands. "What's this?"

"A quilt."

"I can see that, but where did it come from?"

"My closet. It's been up there for years." Seeing the way Sumo was sniffing at the retrieved quilt reminded Hank of when Sumo was a puppy and wanted to snuggle with the rest of the family on top of the quilt during cold winter nights. "I figured that if you feel cold all the time that you'd get more use out of it than I would. Think of it as an extra birthday present."

"...Thank you." Holding the quilt in his hands Connor draped it over his lap and immediately had Sumo up and on his legs seeking warmth and comfort. "I think Sumo wants it more than I do."

"Then Sumo can go out and get a job and buy it off ya'." Sitting down in the recliner just in time for the movie to continue Hank put a handful of the popcorn in his mouth and kicked his feet up. "All right, let's keep watching this disaster-piece about aliens taking over a nameless suburb in everyday America."

"Of course." Cybernetically Connor unpaused the film and let it resume. As he leaned back against the couch cushions Connor suddenly felt as though the hoodie was a little too much to wear and decided to slip it off over his head before wrapping the quilt around himself. "This particular premise is too unusual and illogical to be ignored."

"Illogical. That's one way to describe a giant lobster toy terrorizing the middle of nowhere." Watching as Connor curled up in the quilt and had Sumo cuddling beside him gave Hank flashbacks to years long since passed when Cole was a toddler and Sumo was still a fluffy puppy. It was almost haunting but in a positive way. "...Feel better?"

The question was oddly vague and confusing. "Better?"

"Warmer, I mean. You took off your hoodie."

"Oh, yes." Pulling the quilt tightly around his shoulders and arms Connor seemed entirely content. "This quilt is very nice, I appreciate you letting me have it."

"No problem, son. And Happy Birthday."

"Thanks, Hank. As far as birthdays go this one was very nice."

"Well, since it's your first birthday I'd hope this one would be nice. Now you know what to expect next year."

"Don't forget your own birthday is next month. I might repay the favor."

"Skip over a party and let me have cake without any guilt, and I'll call that a win."

Nodding in Hank's direction Connor remained wrapped up in his quilt and rubbed Sumo's ears lightly as he finally felt warm and secure. "Deal."

_**-next chapter-** _


	18. "R" is for Restrained

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by: connormydear

The day started off normally enough for the two detectives as they clocked-in at the precinct, but that sense of normalcy quickly shifted when a hostage situation downtown brought everything to a grinding halt. A stand-off at a bank resulted in two innocent people being shot and six people being held hostage as a desperate and deranged man stormed the bank demanding money. From what the initial responding officers were able to learn the man had lost his job to a deviant three months prior and was now on the verge of bankruptcy. Determined to keep his family off of the street the enraged man had stormed the bank and tried to threaten a teller into eliminating the foreclosure notice, but the teller hit the panic button before his plan could work.

Taking the hank hostage and shooting the two security guards who tried to stop him proved that the man wasn't going to surrender peacefully until he got his way. Pressing the barrel of the gun to the temple of the very teller who called the police, the man locked himself away in the bank president's private office and shouted his demands through the phone as the police made contact with him from the established perimeter outside the bank.

Being the first available hostage negotiator meant Connor had to take charge of the scene and in exchange for the lives of the wounded security officers Connor traded himself for them. The deranged man was already on edge and didn't trust any androids, and as a result he bound Connor's arms behind his back with cables and wires he tore from under various computer terminals, and tied Connor's already bound arms to a decorative marble pillar in the center of the bank to keep the deviant from trying to do anything that would outsmart him.

' _Hank_ ,' speaking cybernetically without drawing the man's attention Connor kept his partner and the other officers outside apprised of what was happening inside the bank in realtime. ' _I managed to free two of the hostages, both hostages have been wounded_. _Five hostages remain including myself, and I have been restrained against my will_. _The man is armed and I suspect he will kill the teller he's threatening if he too feels threatened_.'

' _All right, kid_.' Hank replied to Connor through his phone to keep their conversation silent. ' _We're setting up a perimeter outside the bank, he won't get away_.'

' _Do not approach the windows_. _He will see you and panic_.'

' _We'll keep our distance outside_. _Make sure you keep him distracted so we can get through one of the emergency exits and surprise him from behind_.'

' _Will do_.' Addressing the man again Connor kept his voice low and did his best to maintain some semblance of control despite being restrained at the moment, and unable to move from the pillar. "The police are taking care of the two hostages you released. They're more willing to work with you."

"Tell them to back the fuck off!" The man shouted as he kept his left arm wrapped around the teller's chest as she cowered in his grip. The barrel of the gun being was pressed to her right temple, his right hand shaking with adrenaline as he held his ground with stubborn desperation. "I'm not leaving until this bitch wipes out my debt!"

"She cannot do that, and you know it." Running a facial scan over the armed man's face Connor was given invaluable information and used it to his advantage to try to end the hostage situation as peacefully as possible. "Tim, you must know that this won't end in your favor."

"H-How do you know my name?!"

"I work with the Detroit Police Department and have access to many resources. I know that your name is Timothy Michael King, you lost your job at a kitchen to a deviant three months prior and are deep into debt."

"Shut up!" Tim shouted in anger. "You're one of them!"

"You have a fiancee." Connor continued on as he looked into Tim's past. "And she has a young son from a previous relationship. You clearly care about them very much to do something as drastic as this, but you going to prison isn't going to eliminate your debt or make things easier for your family."

"SHUT. UP. You fuckin' machines are killing us humans! You fuckers can't even taste but somehow a machine is a better cook than I could ever be!" On the verge of tears Tim made it clear he was willing to do whatever it took to protect the people he loves. "I gave fifteen years of my life to that damn restaurant, I worked endless hours for ungrateful management and snobby customers who didn't appreciate anything I did for them! Any now... Now it doesn't matter! It doesn't matter that MY family is going to starve or be thrown out on the streets, those people have food and shelter, so why would they give a damn?!"

"Tim, listen to me." Unable to move away from the pillar thanks to his arms being restrained behind his back Connor did his best to negotiate from afar. "You're not the only one struggling with unemployment or money, but harming the bank teller just because she did her job isn't going to help you in any way. She was doing what she was told, it wasn't anything personal against you or your family. You'll go to prison and your debt will linger on. Don't do anything that'll make the people you care about suffer."

"It's too late for this to end peacefully." Tim was beginning to lose his cool and breakdown. Pressing the barrel of the gun harder against the teller's right temple Tim was about to do something he couldn't undo. "I failed my family and I failed to provide for them." Redirecting the barrel of the gun to the underside of his own chin Tim closed his eyes and prepared to pull the trigger. "This is the only way."

"Tim!" Attempting to break free of the restraints proved fruitless and Connor couldn't move toward the desperate man on the edge of taking his own life to avoid punishment. "Don't do it! Think of your family!"

Just as Tim was about to end it all Gavin came flying through one of the bank's rear doors and managed to tackle Tim from behind, and knocked the gun harmlessly out of his hand. The moment Gavin had Tim subdued on the ground the tension in the air dropped considerably and the hostage situation came to a merciful end without any further bloodshed.

"Don't move!" Gavin ordered as he pulled Tim's arms behind his back and handcuffed his wrists together. "You're under arrest, don't make things worse!"

Connor let out a small sigh of relief and waited for the other officers to swarm the bank. It wasn't long after that perfectly timed arrest did Hank arrive as well and sweep the area with his gun before making his way over to where Connor had been restrained.

"You good, son?"

"...Yeah." After his arms were freed of the torn cables Connor rubbed his hands along his wrists and watched as Tim was hefted up to his feet and escorted outside the bank to be transported to the precinct. "I'm unharmed."

"Good work. Those two guards are going to make a full recovery and no one else was hurt."

"...That's a relief."

"Come on." Patting his hand on Connor's shoulder Hank led the deviant outside while the hostages were being checked over by E.M.T.'s who had been waiting outside to assist. "Let's get back to the precinct and check over the bank's security and surveillance cameras and figure out how everything folded out before we arrived."

* * *

Sitting at his terminal screen with his half dollar coin slowly rolling from one knuckle to the next Connor stared through the screen as he was unable to truly focus on his assignment. The memory of how he had been restrained in the bank and unable to protect the other hostages kept replaying inside his mind. The way that Tim could've taken his own life simply because he couldn't move filled Connor's heart with guilt. Even though Tim didn't succeed and no one had died due to the incident in the bank, Connor couldn't help but feel as though he failed.

Lowering the coin and slipping it into his jean pocket Connor stared at his wrists where he had been previously restrained and made him wince. The faint blue marks on his artificial skin where the cables had restrained him were a painful reminder of his near failure.

"Stop doing that, kid." Hank already knew what the deviant was doing and wanted to stop it before it got out of hand. "You did everything you could and the situation is over."

"I made a crucial error, Hank."

"And what was that?"

"In order for Tim to agree to let the wounded guards go I had agreed to let him restrain me. He doesn't trust androids and he wouldn't listen to reason."

"Since those guards were given medical treatment and are going to live, AND all of the other hostages were freed without incident, I think you made the right call. It wasn't a traditional approach but it was successful all the same."

"It was a bad call that had a good outcome thanks to the lucky timing of other officers."

"Son, stop it. There are no perfect outcomes or scenarios, luck plays a HUGE role in everything we do every damn time."

"...Maybe."

"I will admit you letting that asshole restrain you wasn't the brightest decision, but if it gave you the leverage to save another person's life then I can't say that your decision was wrong. Just don't do that again."

"I assure you that I won't allow anyone to restrain me for as long as I have the power to resist such a predicament to begin with."

"Good answer. And for the record," Hank sent more information on the incident over to Connor's terminal to view for himself. "that Tim guy wasn't replaced by a deviant because of any superiority bullshit, he was laid-off for repeatedly working while high on 'red ice'." The details on Tim's firing had been kept private as a means of doing Tim a favor, but after he was on the news his former employers were happy to cooperate with the police. "His fiancee had already called off the engagement and left Detroit with her son when Tim refused to get help. If he got clean and stayed clean his job would've been waiting for him to come back."

"...Tim was an addict in denial."

"Yup. It sucks but it's very damn common."

"Now I feel even more foolish."

"Why's that?"

"I was able to learn Tim's name and of his firing," Connor recounted as his cybernetic databases update themselves. "but I wasn't able to learn of the true circumstances of what led to his firing."

"Well, that comes with the territory. Not only do we have H.I.P.A.A. laws to abide by, but everyone is still entitled to some form of privacy even when they fuck things up."

Rubbing his right palm along his left wrist Connor sighed and shook his head a little. "I know what it means to fu-"

"Nope. You did good even when you didn't know as much about Tim as you thought. Being restrained physically and cybernetically isn't going to be fun for you, but it's still an obstacle you overcame. Think of this as a learning experience and nothing more, okay?"

Nodding in response Connor lowered his hands and looked to Hank across from him. "Okay."

"Let's just finish our shift and try to forget about how one man's lies or denials can snowball into something catastrophic."

"It's strange." Contemplating everything he learned since his deviancy Connor realized something truly ironic in what they went through. "Tim had been given the chance to be free and make decisions to better himself, but now he's going to go to prison and be truly restrained by the very system he claimed had failed him and left him behind."

"Humans and irony typically run hand-in-hand. Try to keep above it."

"I swear I'll do my best, Hank." Returning his focus to his terminal screen Connor felt more at ease with his previous decision. "I won't let any of my past experiences, whether they're positive or negative, hold me back."

_**-next chapter-** _


	19. "S" is for Sleeplessness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by: RaesofSaturn

Pacing about the house on the warm autumn night with the chocolate brown quilt wrapped around himself Connor struggled to enter rest mode, and continued to run multiple self diagnostics to try to find out why he couldn't get some sleep. The lack of sleep was a rare occurrence for any deviant to experience, and he wasn't sure what had caused the sleeplessness to plague his every movement as he tried to physically exhaust his power cells in an attempt to activate his emergency rest mode in a desperate ploy to get some sleep.

As he walked about the house at a slow pace Connor knew that Sumo was trailing after him curiously. Having the company was welcoming albeit unnecessary since Connor just wanted to sleep and not play with the family pet.

"Go lay down, Sumo."

Urging Sumo to get some sleep for himself Connor stopped pacing and looked at the Saint Bernard watching his every movement.

"I'll be okay."

Grumbling once Sumo licked at his nose and slowly plodded to the pillow in the corner of the livingroom then laid down.

"Good boy."

Resuming his pacing route Connor was met with completely normal numbers regarding his self diagnostics and was perplexed as to why his rest mode was disabled for seemingly no real reason. He hadn't suffered any damage, viruses, glitches, errors or was missing out on any updates that would be connected to his rest mode's functions.

"Why can't I sleep?"

"Because you're pacing around the damn house." Hank called out as he made his way to the kitchen. His hair was a mess with the classic 'head-bed' style and he was stifling a yawn as he walked. "Lay down instead."

"Did I wake you?"

"No, my damn back did." Grabbing a bottle of water from the refrigerator Hank took a sip and then stared at Connor as the deviant resumed slowly pacing the livingroom like a caged lion. "Maybe you should strap some mops to your feet and polish the floors while you're pacing."

"I'm sorry, I can't help it."

"Insomnia's a bitch. Anything that triggers a sleepless night is going to drive ya' up the wall."

"What causes it?"

"Just about everything." Sipping his water again Hank stood in the doorway connecting the kitchen to the livingroom and watched as Connor circled the couch slowly as if in a trance. "A bad day at work, a bad back waking you up in the middle of the night, a nasty headache keeping you from relaxing, nightmares, bad food, being overly tired, trying a new medication that results in insomnia... Yeah, a lot of shit can lead to a sleepless night."

"How do you correct such an inconvenience?"

"Well, when it hits me I usually end up reading in bed or finding something really boring to watch on T.V. throughout the night. Boredom can have it's perks."

"Deviants can't get bored. We simply idle."

"Sounds boring to me." Motioning to the couch Hank tried to get Connor to lay down and try to rest. "If you keep moving you might make things worse. Lay down and close your eyes."

"I doubt that'll work."

"Only one way to find out. Lay down."

Staring at the couch as he walked toward the front of the furniture again, Connor slowly lowered himself down to the cushions and shifted his weight so he could lay down over the length of the couch as instructed. Using the quilt to keep himself warm and comfortable Connor rested his head on the pillow tucked up against the arm rest and proceeded to lie as still as possible as he stared up at the ceiling overhead.

"Close your eyes."

Once again Connor followed Hank's instructions and closed his eyelids to block out the waking world around him.

"Stay like that." Walking into the livingroom Hank grabbed the T.V. remote from the coffee table and turned on the television to try to find something slow, quiet and boring to help Connor fall asleep. "Just listen to this movie but don't look at it."

"Why?"

"Because if you keep your eyes shut it'll help you drift off to sleep. I also discovered that if I listen to something without seeing it, audio-books usually do the trick, I fall asleep pretty quick. I bet you'll be able to do the same."

"By listening to a movie?"

"Yup. This should work..." Locating a black and white movie that had been panned by critics for being slow, uninteresting and poorly executed, Hank let the movie play out and sat down in the recliner beside the couch. "This movie always helped me fall asleep, even when I didn't want it to."

"When did that happen?"

"High school in my English literature class." Leaning back in the recliner Hank pulled the afghan off the back of the chair, draped it over himself, and adjusted his posture in the chair to help his back feel better. "I could never really follow Shakespeare, and this version of 'Hamlet' is practically a sedative printed on film."

"I'll take your word for it."

Despite the effectiveness of the movie on Hank, the senior detective falling back into a deep sleep within twenty minutes, Connor was still unable to sleep and was beginning to feel the effects of his poor sleep throughout the next day as he reported to the precinct as expected. Throughout the day Connor moved about slower than usual, and he showed little sign of regaining any energy until he entered a proper rest mode.

Things didn't improve much at the house as Connor took Sumo on a walk that was twice as long as usual, and only succeeded in exhausting Sumo while he stayed completely awake. Sitting down on the couch after unclipping Sumo from the leash Connor looked over at Hank as the senior detective sat in the recliner with a container of kung-pow chicken in his hand.

Twirling his chopsticks inside the container Hank looked at Connor and gave him a sympathetic look. "Still not tired, huh?"

"I am not."

"Well, Sumo is." Watching the way Sumo slowly plodded over to his pillow after getting a drink of water Hank smirked when the Saint Bernard practically collapsed on the soft bed and let out a big sigh through his nose. "Want to go see a technician and maybe find a solution?"

"No. A technician's visit is unnecessary and could be considered overkill."

"Do they make any sleeping medication for androids?"

"No such thing exists, unfortunately."

"Have you at least figured out what caused your sleepless night, yet?"

"I have not."

"Have you tried taking a hot shower?"

"...A shower?" The suggestion seemed very unusual and made Connor's brow furrow for a moment. "I'm not dirty."

"So what? Sometimes taking a hot shower is enough to help you relax and drift off to sleep. Give it a shot!"

"At this point I'm willing to try anything."

Rising from the couch Connor walked down the hallway and entered the bathroom to try using a shower to finally help him get some sleep. Going about his usual routine whenever he did take a shower Connor didn't feel any more relaxed or like he could enter rest mode. Toweled off and feeling cleaner but not tired, Connor changed into his night clothes and proceeded to wrap up in the brown quilt again as he returned to the livingroom.

"Still unable to sleep?" Hank asked as he stared at the physically exhausted deviant plopping down on the couch.

"Not yet."

"All right, then I have one final suggestion." Putting his now empty carton of takeout down on the coffee table Hank motioned for Connor lay down over the couch again. "Sumo?" Calling the dog's name Hank pointed to the couch and gave the dog a simple request. "Up!"

Letting out a small grumble Sumo got back up to his paws and trotted over to the couch and jumped up to lay down over Connor's outstretched legs.

Lifting his head up a little Connor looked down at Sumo as the Saint Bernard happily wagged his tail and snuggled down. "Hank?"

"Lay back down and close your eyes."

"...Okay."

"Now," speaking in a softer tone Hank explained what was going on. "keep your eyes closed, don't move, don't speak and just focus on the way Sumo is breathing."

"I don't-"

"Shh. Just focus on Sumo breathing. Count it in your mind and stay put."

While he didn't understand what Hank was talking about or why Sumo was going to somehow help him enter rest mode, Connor was willing to try any new approach to finally get some sleep. As he began to focus on Sumo and count the dog's fairly rapid breaths Connor didn't realize his other processes and software were slowly powering down, and that his mind was beginning to drift off. Soon his whole body relaxed and his own breathing leveled out as his mind finally shut down enough to allow Connor to enter his long overdue rest mode.

"Kid?" Noticing that Connor was motionless save for his gently rising and falling chest Hank knew that he had finally fallen asleep. "Works every damn time. Sumo's more effective than counting a whole damn herd of sheep."

* * *

Leaving Connor alone for the next two days, their time off from the precinct being perfectly timed, Hank didn't disturb the sleeping deviant as he went about his own business through the house as quietly as possible. The way Connor had remained perfectly quiet and undisturbed for well over a day told Hank that the deviant was thoroughly exhausted and needed to sleep in order to regain the energy he lost over the past few days. It seemed even Sumo understood that necessity and didn't try to rouse the deviant from his sleep to beg for a walk or treats.

By the time afternoon came around Hank had finished changing the oil in the Oldsmobile and stepped through the front door in time to see Connor sitting upright on the couch and rubbing his hand over his still heavy eyes. The way Connor looked so human and so tired made Hank quietly chuckle to himself.

"How do you feel, kid?"

"Rested." Looking up at Hank by the front door Connor's chronometer updated and his brown eyes went wide with surprise. "I've been asleep for the past twenty-nine hours, fourteen minutes and fifty-two seconds."

"Yup. You needed to sleep so I left you alone."

"How did you know that would work?" Glancing about Connor noticed that Sumo was now napping on his pillow in the corner of the livingroom and that the massive dog seemed entirely content where he was laying. "I don't understand what happened."

"Simple. You stopped focusing on the way you couldn't sleep and then you were able to finally relax enough to go to sleep."

"...Meaning?"

"Meaning you just think too damn much! You started counting Sumo's breaths and that was enough to make you stop thinking about everything else; including your inability to fall asleep."

"You distracted my thoughts with Sumo?"

"Yup. And clearly it worked."

"It did. Thanks."

"You're welcome. By the way, we have to go back to work tomorrow, so if you wanted to do anything during your time off you better do it now."

"I had no plans."

"Then you have no worries." Sitting down in the recliner Hank flashed the deviant a smug look from where he sat. "If you have trouble sleeping again tonight you now have a solution."

"I do. Who knew Sumo was such an efficient metronome?"

"Not me. Big oaf's nasty breath always keeps me awake when he tries to sleep on my bed."

"Good thing androids can turn off unnecessary sensors when prompted."

"You can turn off your sense of smell?"

"Only for one minute. It's a safety measure to allow me to detect potentially toxic substances in the air and as such I cannot turn it off indefinitely."

"Oh, well, one minute's better than nothing."

"Since I slept most of the day away I insist on cooking dinner tonight. I want to do something productive."

"All right, I have no objections to that. Just don't do anything that'll fuck up your sleep schedule again."

"I assure you I will make no such mistake. I greatly prefer being able to sleep when necessary."

_**-next chapter-** _


	20. "T" is for Taken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by: BKt800

A drug bust gone wrong resulted in Hank being taken hostage and Connor needing to not only find his missing partner, but needing to find a way to secure Hank's safe return. Picking up the trail where Hank had been ambushed and taken captive Connor found a small smear of blood and confirmed that it belonged to Hank with a quick sample analyzed by his forensics software. Noting the age of the blood Connor confirmed that Hank had been assaulted and taken from the scene less than an hour prior, and could confirm by the amount of blood that the wound Hank had suffered came from a significant blow to the head that undoubtedly rendered the senior detective unconscious.

Working alongside Gavin to locate Hank before it was too late Connor was able to use his enhanced software to pick up on Hank's cell phone signature, and from there trail the abductors to an abandoned textile plant on the far side of the city. The phone's signal suddenly cut out which confirmed that the phone either lost power or the people who abducted Hank had destroyed it.

"He's close." Connor noted as Gavin drove the squad car along the industrial district and toward the abandoned factory. "His phone signal suddenly cut out."

"Fuck. Is it busted?"

"Unknown."

"All right. We'll find him..." Tightening his grip on the steering wheel Gavin kept his eyes peeled for any sign of unusual behavior in the area. "Those fuckers won't take down another cop on my watch."

Reflexively swallowing in a nervous manner, a new tic he had developed as his deviancy continued to evolve, Connor tried to not think about Hank being harmed, or worse, during his search for the missing senior detective. The very possibility of losing his best friend to a criminal was enough to make Connor feel a horrible knot form inside of his artificial stomach.

"Which way do we go, 'Tinman'?" Gavin slowed the car's pace as he kept his eyes peeled. "Left or right?"

"Keep going straight and take a right at the second alleyway."

"Got it."

As the car neared the factory Connor's sensors were able to detect four sets of human vital signs and noted that one of the four were considerably weaker than the other three. "...Shit."

"What's going on?"

"...Hank's hurt and he's very weak."

"Where is he?"

Honing in on the factory Connor pointed it out and cybernetically requested back-up to the scene. "In there. Three human males are keeping him captive."

"We'll get the Lieutenant outta' there." Parking the car out of sight of the factory Gavin checked the gun holstered on his right hip and watched as Connor checked the gun tucked under his jacket. "You good?"

"Yes." Confirming that his gun was ready for use Connor opened the passenger side door. "Let's go."

Keeping their heads down while moving quickly toward the factory Connor and Gavin located an broken open window on the first floor of the factory and used it to their advantage. Slipping through the window one at a time the duo swept over the factory's ground floor and heard voices near the back of the building muttering through a pair of closed double-doors.

Nodding in the direction of the door Connor held his gun in front of himself and led the way. "Back-up is less than one minute away."

"Then kick in the door and let's end this stupid shit."

Agreeing with the plan and eager to find Hank before it was too late Connor drew his right leg back and kicked the two doors right in the middle of the adjoined door frame and easily broke into the backroom. "Detroit Police! Hands in the air!"

The three men who had taken Hank hostage turned around quickly to face the doors and grabbed their own weapons to point back at the two detectives who had found them. Hank was unconscious and laying in the middle of the floor in a small puddle of his own blood courtesy of a laceration over his left eye. Unaware of the stand-off taking place around him Hank was entirely defenseless and prone on the cold concrete floor of the factory.

"Drop the guns!" Connor barked in a manner that would make Hank proud. "You're under arrest!"

"Fuck you, plastic-freak!"

Quickly ducking down and out of sight Connor was able to draw the gunfire of the three men while he took shelter behind a massive powered down generator. Gavin was able to move into a better position and take down the three gun men one at a time with three ideal shots to their shoulders. The shots were meant to disarm the trio without killing them in the process, and the shots were very effective to say the least.

As the three gunmen dropped their weapons and backed away from Hank on the floor, Connor moved toward the senior detective while Gavin kept his gun trained on the violent trio. Outside the factory the sound of sirens filled the air and blue and red flashing lights illuminated the abandoned property.

"Hank?" Holstering his weapon without a care for his own safety Connor ran a scan over Hank's vital signs and gently rolled the wounded human from his left side and onto his back. Mindful of the fractured ribs and blunt force trauma to Hank's abdomen Connor repositioned the senior detective on the floor to ensure his airway remained clear and opened. "Hank, please open your eyes."

Remaining silent on the floor Hank didn't react when Connor gently placed his left palm under Hank's blood caked hair to lift him up from the floor. The blow to Hank's head had rendered him unconscious and very likely left him concussed. Aside from the concussion and fractured ribs it appeared as though Hank was suffering from minor internal bleeding and damage to his hands from trying to defend himself.

"An ambulance is on its way." Connor whispered as he monitored Hank's vital signs very closely. The destroyed cell phone was laying in large shards of plastic and glass all around him. "You'll be transported to the hospital and treated for your injuries very soon."

Chris, Tina and two other police officers that Connor didn't recognize arrived at the factory and proceeded to help Gavin handcuff the three disarmed men, and take them to the precinct to be charged with drug trafficking, assault against a police officer, abduction, unlawful imprisonment and a slew of other charges that would surely be added to rub salt into the wound for taking Hank as their hostage.

Shortly after the three men were escorted outside to be read their Miranda rights and taken into custody Connor heard the sound of the ambulance arriving at the scene to take care of Hank. It was an oddly bittersweet moment as it meant that Connor would have to watch as paramedics took Hank away from him after they had just finally been reunited, and the idea of being forcefully separated from his best friend was one he thoroughly didn't enjoy.

"I'll be at the hospital when you wake up." Making the promise to his best friend as two paramedics were shown into the back area by Gavin himself, Connor couldn't shake a dreadful feeling that the senior detective's condition was worse than what his sensors could detect. "I promise you won't be alone."

* * *

As if his new emotional depth was being tested Connor was intercepted by a nurse when he arrived at the hospital and was informed that Hank had been taken into emergency surgery to stop his internal bleeding before it became life threatening. In turn Connor would have to wait a while longer before he saw his friend and ended up pacing about the waiting room with his special half-dollar coin dancing over the back of his right knuckles to help control his anxious tic as he unwillingly played the waiting game.

Despite his best attempts to keep the statistics of what could go wrong during an emergency splenectomy out of his mind, Connor kept seeing the numbers and warnings every time he closed his eyes. Connor knew all too well how Hank's history of alcohol abuse had damaged his body and he knew that the senior detective's somewhat advanced age would only add another challenge for his attending doctors to handle.

Just as the deviant was about to cross the waiting room for the one-hundred and ninety-second time the same nurse who intercepted him gave him an update at long last. Being introduced to Dr. Wilson, who performed Hank's life saving surgery, helped ease Connor's worries by only a fraction. Once he was taken to Hank's private recovery room Connor finally pocketed his coin and stopped his anxious pacing.

Taking a seat in the chair beside the recovery bed Connor looked past the stitches above Hank's blackened left eye, the nasal canula under Hank's nose, the cardiac monitor recording his vital signs and the I.V. drip giving Hank blood, fluid, painkillers and antibiotics. Resting his right palm on the pack of Hank's left forearm, mindful of the bandages around Hank's bruised and fractured knuckles, Connor let his friend know he wasn't alone and that he wasn't going to leave him behind.

"You're going to be okay, Hank. It's over."

Speaking in a comforting tone Connor remained loyally at his best friend's side and waited for Hank to regain consciousness.

"I imagine when you awaken you'll have a terrible headache, so I'll be sure to encourage the doctor to give you what you humans refer to as 'the good stuff' to make it more bearable."

Trying his best to sound confident and without any fear Connor continued to speak to Hank as if he were conscious and perfectly coherent.

"The three men who ambushed you and took you away to the abandoned factory are going to spend the rest of their lives in prison. You apparently interrupted a massive deal in the works and prevented them from obtain seven-hundred and fifty-thousand dollars. That's a new record for the city."

Watching Hank's potential reactions very carefully Connor made sure to keep his voice steady and his emotions in check.

"I... I'm not sure how much of this you can hear and understand, but I'd like to think you know I'm here. You've been by my side whenever I've been damaged or afflicted with an error in the past, and I wish to repay your kindness. You're without a doubt my best friend and there are times where I begin to wonder if the way you treat me and the way I seek your advice is like... I don't want to say 'paternal', but I'm unsure of how else I could possibly describe it."

A little embarrassed by his comment Connor shook his head and looked away from Hank for a moment.

"Then again, I'm new to emotions and experiences. Perhaps I'm merely over analyzing the situation and misreading it."

Turning his attention back to Hank beside him Connor resumed his vigil and refused to take his eyes off his best friend for a second.

"You tolerated the surgery very well and the doctors expect you to make a full recovery with very minimal complications, if any complications at all."

Speaking merely to keep the silence at bay Connor thought back to how Hank had always given him words of encouragement after the Revolution and how the senior detective was frequently reminding Connor that he was someone worthy of life. Such notions were still unusual for Connor to accept since the cruelty of CyberLife had tried to drill it into his head that he wasn't alive, never would be alive and was just a hollow machine without a soul. There was something about the way Hank had spoken to him was enough to make CyberLife's words nothing more than the worthless lies that they were.

Glancing about the room and corridor Connor made sure there weren't any doctors, nurses or other patients in the area and began to quietly hum a few bars of a song and gradually grew in volume until he was singing a song quietly to help fill the silent void of the recovery room. As the song continued Connor felt Hank's arm twitch slightly under his palm causing the deviant to suddenly stop the song.

"...Hank?"

There was a small delay before Hank managed to find his hoarse voice. "...Y-Yeah."

"I'm right here, you're going to be okay." Tightening his grip on Hank's forearm Connor made sure Hank knew where he was. "You're in the hospital, but you're recovering well."

Keeping his eyes closed Hank turned his head a little toward Connor's direction and let out a small breath. "...Connor. How long have I been out?"

"Approximately five hours, nineteen minutes and fifty-three seconds."

"...Are you hurt?"

"Me? No." Surprised by the question Connor gave his friend a perplexed stare. "I'm unharmed."

"...Good. That's good." Struggling to fully regain consciousness Hank kept his eyes closed and moved his hands a little. "...Glad you're not hurt, son."

"I'm fine. You're the one who needs to rest. You were taken by the three drug dealers and beaten, but you're going to recover."

"...I'll be fine as long as no one messes with my boy."

The comment made Connor's brow arch and his head tilt a little as he remained next to Hank. "...Your boy?"

"Family is the most important thing in this world to me." Sounding groggy Hank's voice dipped as he spoke as he began to fall back asleep. The sedatives were potent and very effective. "...No one messes with my son. Any even tries to take him away... I'd kill them."

Realizing what was happening Connor just nodded and sank down in his chair. "Of course. Cole knows how much you still love him."

Staying silent Hank had drifted off to sleep again and was already in a deep slumber.

"Keep resting, Hank." Shrugging off his gray blazer Connor gently draped the garment over Hank to ensure the senior detective was as warm and comfortable as possible. "I'll be here when you wake up."

_**-next chapter-** _


	21. "U" is for Underappreciated

While Hank was recovering comfortably at the house Connor had to return to the precinct and help fill the void left behind by the senior detective's momentary absence. Every half hour Connor would check in with Hank and made sure he wasn't suffering from any pain or infection, and he made sure Hank was taking his medication on time as necessary. Multitasking to help Hank from afar and to help his colleagues in the precinct Connor alone managed to juggle six cases, nine interviews, four field investigations and a dozen false complaints before his shift was over.

Working himself into the ground Connor managed to pick-up Hank's newest prescription refill, gather ingredients for a home cooked meal and a few other necessary groceries to ensure Hank was entirely comfortable during his recovery all before returning to the house. After returning to home and informing Hank on everything he did throughout the day Connor finished helping Hank change the bandages over his abdominal surgical incision site, and handed him the plate of freshly prepared pasta for his dinner.

"Seriously?" Accepting the prepared meal Hank gave Connor a truly impressed glance. "You did all that by yourself, son?"

"Yes." Sitting down on the couch next to Hank for a moment Connor looked over at Sumo and sighed about not being able to squeeze in time to take the large dog out on a walk. "I was able to handle everything in a timely and efficient manner."

"How'd you do that?" Poking his fork into a seasoned tomato slice Hank watched Connor very curiously from the corner of his eye. "That sounds like twice the workload you usually handle."

"I worked through my afternoon break and I filed reports cybernetically while driving to and from field investigations."

"Wait..." Turning to look at Connor directly Hank gave him an almost scolding look. "You didn't take a break today?"

"No, but it's okay. I can handle it."

"Son, it's NOT okay." Putting his plate aside for a moment Hank gave the deviant a very stern and grounding voice to hear. "You are supposed to take breaks and STOP working to prevent yourself from getting stressed out. You having to work through your break in order to keep up with your workload is not okay, and Fowler should've been making sure you weren't getting overworked."

"I can-"

"I'm not questioning whether or not you can handle it, son. I'm trying to remind you that your workload shouldn't be so much heavier than anyone else's just because your partner's down for a while, or because you're a deviant. It's not right to be overworked and underappreciated."

"...Underappreciated?" The concept wasn't unfamiliar but it did seem out of place. "In what way?"

"You were working your ass off all day long, you worked through your own break without complaint, you were keeping track of me all damn day long and you're still going out of your way to accommodate me. Don't let your kindness and big heart be your downfall, son."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"And don't ever let anyone try to guilt you into taking on more work than you can handle. You're allowed to say 'no' when it comes to people trying to get you to do them a 'favor' or give you a sob story about how they're struggling. Work is tough for everyone, at least when you're handling your workload with the proper procedure, and you aren't responsible for other people keeping up. Don't let your hard work go unappreciated or underappreciated."

Understanding what Hank was telling him Connor nodded slowly and agreed to spend the next day working on only what he could handle solo without pushing himself too hard. "Okay, Hank. I won't."

"Good. Now, stop worrying about me and take the rest of evening off to relax." Picking up his plate again Hank continued to eat his dinner without any sign of pain or infection from his emergency surgery three days prior. "You're allowed to do things just for yourself without being selfish, kid. Don't be afraid to stand up for yourself and demand a little respect."

"I'll remember that as well." Sitting back against the couch cushions Connor cybernetically recounted everything he had done throughout the day and estimated that he had given an additional sixty-seven percent of his time and energy to the precinct without any immediate pay-off or recognition, and now understood what Hank meant about being underappreciated. "Tomorrow I won't accept any work that doesn't pertain to me or the deviant division."

* * *

The following day was just as busy as it had been and Connor was working hard to keep ahead of his reports before anything piled up too much. As he worked to keep up with what was already on his terminal screen Connor saw Captain Fowler leave his private office and make a beeline right for him. Unsure of what to expect Connor just sat in silence and waited for his commanding officer to speak up first. It was then that Connor was handed a tablet screen with another case completely unrelated to anything he was working on.

"The new guys need some help." Captain Fowler stated as if expecting Connor to just accept the new case without protest. "Show 'em how it's done."

"With all due respect, sir," speaking up in a level tone without any fear Connor remembered Hank's advice and stood up for himself. "I have enough cases to handle without needing to take care of this."

"And you're great at handling them. That's why I'm giving you this assignment."

"Sir, I don't want to take on another assignment. I want to handle my own responsibilities without being expected to pick up the slack for other people at the same time. It's unfair."

"Fair?" The comment almost made Captain Fowler scoff. "This isn't high school, Connor. There is no fair or unfair."

"But there is being unappreciated and underappreciated." Defending his actions with a mild sense of fear building in his chest Connor just reminded himself that Hank had never steered him wrong in the past and that it wasn't selfish to not take on another person's responsibility. "I've been working the entire deviant division alone while my partner is in on the injured roster, I've worked through my break to keep ahead and I've done so without complaint or asking for others to assist me. I believe I'm allowed to say 'no' to any additional work that isn't my responsibility without repercussions."

Captain Fowler stared at Connor for a moment before he let out annoyed sigh through his nose. "All right, fine. I'll hand this off to-"

"Why can't the rookies learn on their own? Passing off their responsibilities to other officers won't teach them anything."

A ghost of an approving grin appeared on Captain Fowler's face but disappeared in an instant. "Good point. I'll sort this out you keep doing what you were already doing."

"Yes, sir."

Walking away from the desk for a moment Captain Fowler stopped and addressed Connor one more time. "And Sergeant?"

Wary of what was about to happen Connor spoke up in a nearly timid tone. "...Yes, sir?"

"Good work. Keep it up."

"...Thank you, sir."

A sense of accomplishment filled Connor's mind and he slumped in his chair as if relieved. Closing his eyes Connor sent Hank a cybernetic message detailing how he stood up to Captain Fowler and had his work acknowledged at last. It felt like an actual win and in turn Connor felt like he was finally being recognized as the skilled detective he truly was.

' _Good job, son_.' Hank replied to the message with his phone without distracting Connor from his work at the precinct. ' _Don't ever let anyone take advantage of your good nature and dedication_.'

' _I won't_. _Thank you for your advice_.'

' _You're welcome_. _I'll see you later tonight_. _I'm proud of you, son_.'

The admission of pride was all it took to make Connor feel a pale blue blush fill his cheeks as the acknowledgement meant more to him than he realized or could describe. '... _Thank you for saying that_.'

Opening his eyes Connor resumed focusing on his terminal screen and didn't notice that Ben was watching him from his own desk and had a smirk on his face. Without saying a word the seasoned investigator managed to communicate to Connor that asking for a little appreciation wasn't anything to be ashamed of, and just like Hank, he was proud of the deviant for standing up for himself.

"It's nice to be appreciated." Connor mumbled to himself as he resumed his work without any hesitation behind the motion. "Hank was right as per usual."

_**-next chapter-** _


	22. "V" is for Virus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who didn't see this one coming? :P

The city came to a grinding halt as a new virus swept through the deviant community at a frightening pace. The virus was designed to affect the biocomponents of all afflicted deviants in such a way that the victim was left physically weakened, unstable and dangerously overheated. As expected the virus didn't go noticed until a large portion of the deviant community had already been infected and rendered helpless. The virus took down most of New Jericho Tower, and one other deviant who had the misfortune of being infected was Connor, and as a result he was too ill to report to the precinct.

Residing at the house and inside his bedroom Connor remained wrapped up in the chocolate brown quilt and curled up on his side in his bed. Staring at the aquarium beside his bed Connor watched as his blue betta swam about gracefully through his somewhat blurry vision, and did his best to not cough as his ventilation biocomponents steadily filled with debris that his system failed to filter out properly.

Miserable and shivering despite his system overheating Connor just stared at the aquarium and pulled his quilt tighter around himself as he waited for the proper antivirus program to be released. It was a long wait that felt eternal to the sick deviant.

"Hey, kid." Hank entered the bedroom with an ice pack pressed to his still healing abdomen and a second ice pack in his free hand. Putting the second pack down on the nearby nightstand Hank pressed the back of his right hand against Connor's too warm forehead. "Shit. That's a pretty nasty fever."

"O-Overheating."

"Same thing. Any luck with the cure yet?"

"Not yet." Looking up at Hank as the senior detective pulled his hand back Connor felt his chest tighten as another coughing fit interrupted his voice. Burying his face against his quilt Connor stifled the sound and didn't try to move away as Hank put his hand down on Connor's shoulder to hold him steady. "...S-Still working on it."

"You sound awful." Picking up the second ice pack from the nightstand Hank gently placed it over Connor's forehead as much as possible while the deviant was resting on his left side. The yellow and red flickering of Connor's L.E.D. was less than comforting to see. "What is this virus going to do to you?"

"...Block the f-filter in my ventilation biocomponents."

"Sounds like congestion."

"Sp-Sporadic bouts of overheating and hy-hypothermia due to my thermal regulator being affected."

"Fever and chills."

"The unpredictable-" Coughing again Connor caught his breath and let out a soft sigh before continuing. "...The unpredictable n-nature of my biocomponents momentarily malfunctioning is m-making it impossible to replenish my Thirium intake w-without the risk of my emergency expulsion pr-program activating."

"So... Uh... Nausea. Right?"

"...Technically, yes."

"Anything else?"

"Gyroscopic interference will th-throw off my sense of balance and my external s-sensors are having difficulty detecting where my hands and feet are, wh-which means my ability to move a-around will be limited."

"Dizziness and fatigue. Shit, sounds like you either have a horrible cold or android-pneumonia."

"Android-pneumonia is kn-known as 'ventilation effusion'. That is a condi-" Coughing even harder Connor lost his words and felt Hank's hand tightening on his shoulder in a protective manner.

"Try not to talk as much." Falling right into 'dad mode' Hank sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for Connor's coughing fit to pass. "Can you tell me your temperature without knocking the breath out of yourself again?"

Nodding after catching his breath Connor ran a quick self diagnostic and noted his current core temperature. "...One-hundred and two p-point four."

"Seems about right. Keep resting in here and I'll keep Sumo from climbing all over ya'. Furry space heater is the last thing you need to deal with."

"...How's your a-abdomen?"

"Kid, I'm fine. It's been a week since that damn surgery and I haven't had any problems with infections or pain. You need to rest and let me take care of you this time."

"But you-"

"Son? Shut up." Shaking Connor's shoulder a little Hank rose from the bed very carefully and made his way to the bedroom door. "You need to get some rest and let that antivirus-whatever-thingy do its work once it's been finished. I'm going to feed Sumo to distract him."

Unable to do anything more than lay still on his bed and suffer in (mostly) silence Connor decided the best thing he could do to for both Hank and himself would be to rest and let his body slowly heal as he awaited the antivirus to be available for download. There was no point in trying to do things he couldn't physically do and worry Hank in the process, let alone cause Hank any undo stress as the senior detective continued his slow but consistent recovery.

Out in the livingroom Hank continued to try to rest as much as possible and let his abdominal incision continue to heal enough that he didn't need to keep it bandaged, and made the fateful decision to watch the news as a means of distracting him from Connor being ill just down the hallway. The news was expectedly covering the virus outbreak in the city and going into greater detail regarding the virus and its severity.

' _The new virus which has yet to be to fully identified or have its origins located_ ,' the anchorwoman explained with indifference in her tone. ' _has been confirmed to be a deliberate attack against deviants with the virus causing numerous problems to biocomponents and software_. _The most severe of the symptoms courtesy of the virus includes sudden and extreme overheating that can result in memory damage or other interference with the intracranial processor_.'

"Shit." Turning off the news Hank tightened his grip on the ice pack pressed against his abdomen and rose to his feet. "The 'sudden and extreme' bit doesn't sit well with me."

Obeying his paternal instincts Hank walked back the hallway to check on Connor and noticed that the deviant's eyes were partially open as if he were caught mid blink. The red blinking L.E.D. in Connor's right temple spoke of a whole other problem that made a chill run up Hank's spine that was colder than the actual ice in his grip.

"Connor?!" Standing beside the bed Hank put his hand on the deviant's shoulder and felt the intense heat radiating from his person. "Fuck! You're really overheating!"

Removing the quilt from around the deviant's overheating form Hank put his own ice pack down over the center of Connor's chest while he fished his phone from his pocket. Unsure of what to do Hank chose to call Joel at the precinct, he knew Abby would be too busy at her facility with dozens of other sick deviants already, and asked the technician for some help.

"Joel! It's Hank." Pressing the first ice pack over Connor's forehead firmly Hank relayed everything to Joel and let him know what was happening. "He's out of it and he's burning up."

' _You already have ice packs and that'll help_.' Joel replied as he went about his way as quickly as possible to head to the house. The sound of Joel rummaging around his dispensary and entering the elevator could be heard in the background of the call. ' _I know you're still healing from your own injuries, but if you can get him in a cold bath or shower that'll help_.'

"Okay, I can try that."

' _I'll be over as soon as I can_. _I have a copy of the antivirus on my laptop so I can directly upload it into his system manually even while he's unresponsive_.'

"Thanks, the front door's unlocked and the dog's friendly."

' _Okay, I'm about five minutes away_.'

Ending the call Hank pulled on Connor's left arm and pulled the limp limb around his shoulders and hauled Connor's lightweight body off the bed, and proceeded to hold Connor up at his side. The ice packs fell from Connor's person the moment he was moved up to his feet, but Hank didn't have time to mess with the dropped ice at the moment. Shifting his weight a little Hank managed to half drag, half carry Connor into the bathroom across from the bedroom and then sit Connor down on the edge of the bathtub.

"Hang on, son."

With a very careful and controlled motion Hank managed to lower Connor down into the bathtub to lay down, then turned on the shower to let the cool water pour of Connor's body in an attempt to help the deviant recover from his sudden overheating. Ignoring his own discomfort Hank clumsily managed to remove Connor's black t-shirt and let the unconscious deviant rest more comfortably in the cool water.

"Joel's on his way."

Pressing his right palm to Connor's left cheek Hank knew that Connor's temperature had spiked and if he couldn't ventilate well; breathing was something androids did need to do from time to time, then he was just going to get worse before he got better. Standing back up Hank pressed his left hand over his abdomen to support his still healing abdominal muscles and then pulled the digital thermometer from the medicine cabinet above the sink with his right hand. Turning the device on Hank knelt down beside the tub and slipped the thermometer into Connor's mouth to rest beneath the deviant's tongue.

"Fuck... Right now I wish we were both dealing with the flu again. I hate seeing you like this."

The thermometer 'beeped' and Hank looked at the number being displayed with wide blue eyes.

"One-hundred and six?! Shit!"

The sound of the front door opening and closing filled the house as Joel arrived at last, and followed the sound of the running shower to the bathroom. Placing his satchel down on the floor beside the tub Joel motioned for Hank to step back and opened the satchel to begin rummaging through his supplies.

"He's burning up at a hundred and six."

"Shit..." Joel swore through his teeth as gently turned Connor's head to the left so he could access the red glowing L.E.D. in his right temple. "That's way too high under any situation."

Adjusting the shower head so the water would hit Connor's chest instead of his head Hank watched as Joel connected a black cable to Connor's L.E.D. and then connected the opposite end to his laptop for a diagnostic. The laptop glowed to life with the details of Connor's overheating processor and Joel typed away on his keyboard as he manually uploaded the antivirus program into Connor's system.

"What's that?" Hank asked as he tried but failed to understand the number's on the laptop screen. "A cure?"

"It's the bare bones antivirus software that'll fix this problem. It isn't one-hundred percent complete, but it can help get his core temperature under control."

"Is... Is he going to be okay?" Staring at the way Connor wasn't breathing and the way the cool water was actually causing some steam to rise from the deviant's body had made Hank feel queasy. "I saw on the news that this virus can cause memory problems."

Joel's hands froze for a moment as he reached into his satchel again. Giving Hank a somber glance Joel just nodded a little. "There's a chance that since his temperature got so high he might have some form of memory impairment."

"Son of a bitch..." Dragging his right hand over his bearded chin Hank sighed a leaned back against the sink heavily. "How... How will we know?"

"If his memory has been in fact impaired then his most recent memories leading back as far as six months will be spotty."

"Shit..."

"Try not to worry, Hank." Joel used his audioscope to listen to Connor's chest and shook his head at the lack of ventilation motion. "You got him cooled down pretty quickly. He'll need a moment longer in the shower before he'll open he'll reboot."

"When's he going to wake up?"

"Hard to say. I'll keep him hooked up to my laptop to monitor his vitals and the moment the antivirus is ready I'll upload it in its entirety."

"Fuck me..."

Joel wasn't a medic but he did know enough about human biology from his college courses in bioengineering to recognize that Hank was stressed out. "You should go into the livingroom or something for a while. I don't want you getting sick from stress."

"I'm not leaving Connor in here while he's sick." Kneeling back down beside the tub Hank shifted his weight and pressed his back up against the side of the tub and stretched his legs out before himself. "I have nowhere else to be right now, anyway."

"Okay." Checking on the progress of the antivirus Joel leaned back as well and sat cross legged on the floor beside Hank. "The antivirus is at seventy-eight percent completion, so, there's that least."

"Better than nothing..."

* * *

The better part of three hours were spent with Connor in the cold shower and Joel checking the deviant's vital signs every ten minutes. The antivirus had been completed and the program was uploaded into the deviant's processor to remove the virus at last. When Connor finally took in a deep breath for the first time in hours Hank let out his own breath of relief while Joel resumed listening to his chest again. The damage to Connor's ventilation biocomponents was already beginning to mend thanks to the antivirus.

"Good sign." Joel noted as he pulled his audioscope back and then reached over to turn off the shower. "He's ventilating, there's no faltering and his core temperature is beginning to drop to a more manageable degree."

"That's good. Is he going to wake up now?"

"Soon." Detaching the cable from the deviant's L.E.D. Joel packed up his satchel and gave Hank a confident nod. "Like I said, don't worry too much about his memory. If it's a little off it'll come back over time and he'll be just fine."

"Thanks for your help, Joel. I appreciate you coming out here to help."

"No problem." Standing up from the floor Joel slung his satchel over his right shoulder and stretched his stiff back a little. "I'm going to go back to the precinct to make sure none of the other deviants have been infected by this damn virus. Call me again if you need more help."

"Right. Take care."

Once Joel was out of the house Hank took a towel from the nearby rack and used it to dry off Connor's chest and then left it draped over the deviant since he knew how much Connor hated being cold. Refusing to budge until Connor was awake again Hank just stayed on the floor and tried to not think about Connor losing any of his good memories or completely reverting back to how he had been before he deviated.

"I hope you're okay, son. I don't want to lose my best friend because of some damn virus." Resting his left elbow against the edge of the bathtub Hank pressed his left temple into his palm and took in a deep breath. "I won't lose another kid over something like this. You're too important to me, son."

Hearing Hank's voice was enough to rouse Connor at last and the deviant's head lolled back to straighten his neck. Opening his eyes Connor lifted his head and noticed Hank sitting on the floor beside the bathtub. "...Lieutenant?"

The fact that Connor addressed him by his rank and not his name made Hank wince a little. Turning to look at Connor as the deviant regained consciousness at long last. "Yeah, right here, son."

Blinking a few times Connor's memorybank rebooted and all of the memories came flooding back and made the deviant physically jump as if in pain.

"Whoa!" Kneeling down beside the bathtub Hank grabbed onto the deviant's wrists and held him still. "It's okay, son. You're okay."

Shaking his head a little as if needing to shake some cobwebs loose Connor looked at Hank and recognized him immediately. "...Hank?"

"Yeah, it's me." Relieved to hear his name Hank managed a weak grin. "How do you feel?"

Glancing about the bathroom Connor realized where he was and sighed a little. "Damp."

Chuckling at the comment Hank knew in that moment that Connor was going to be okay. "Smartass. Seriously, how do you feel?"

"Much better." A quick self diagnostic confirmed that he was recovering well. "The antivirus was evidently successful."

"And... your memory?"

"Intact." Leaning forward in the tub Connor shifted his weight and stood up very slowly to test his strength and balance. He wasn't dizzy and he was strong enough to stand on his own. "How do you feel?"

"Relieved."

Smirking at the comment Connor stepped out of the bathtub and offered Hank his hand to help him up to his feet. "I'm glad."

"Come on. You need to change into some dry clothes and I need to rest my back since sitting on the hard ground has been murder on my spine."

"Have you been taking your antibiotics on time?"

Laughing a little Hank clapped his hand on Connor's shoulder and gave him a gentle shake. "Kid, go dry off. I'll take my meds' and you're going to sit in the livingroom where I can keep an eye on you for the rest of the day."

"But I've recovered." The urge to protect him seemed a little misplaced. "There's not need to watch over me anymore."

"That doesn't mean I'm not going to keep worrying about you, son. You were really damn sick."

"I'm okay, Hank. I promise."

"I know, but... Do an old man a favor. Stay in sight and stay out of trouble."

"You're not old." Connor quipped as he stepped out of the bathroom and into his bedroom to change into dry clothes. "You're wise, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah... And my wisdom tells me that you're still being a smartass, which is a good thing, but you're also still recovering just as I am. Cooperate with me and chill out in the livingroom for a while, okay?"

"Okay, Hank. I'll be out in a minute."

"Thank you, son." Holding his hand to his bandaged abdomen to support his weakened muscles as he walked Hank went into the livingroom and sat down on the couch very slowly to keep himself from reopening his healing incision. "The last thing I need is to lose the only family I have left."

_**-next chapter-** _


	23. "W" is for Wind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by: Vespurrs

The harsh weather caused the house to shake on its foundation as brutal wind blew without mercy over the entire city. The threat of tornadic activity had put Detroit on high alert as the dangerous storm built in strength and proceeded to bombard the city with heavy rain, extreme wind, menacing lightning and taunting thunder. While the precincts and fire departments were monitoring the harsh weather to keep all of the citizens protected Hank and Connor huddled down in the house and proceeded to protect the windows and doors with tarps, and then secured the Oldsmobile inside the garage to protect the vehicle from flying debris and potential hail stones.

It was difficult to use the weather channel to monitor the storm as thick cloud cover disrupted the signal fairly frequently, but Connor was able to keep a closer eye on the storm than Hank could. Sitting in the middle of the livingroom floor with Sumo cowering on his lap Connor closed his eyes and tried to tune out the howling wind surrounding him.

"Shit, I haven't seen weather this bad in years." Hank was watching the storm through the small window showing the side yard from the livingroom. The tarp over the glass had been pushed aside by Hank as a means of watching the storm without leaving the entire window exposed. "Glad we're not at the precinct right now. We'd be patrolling the streets in this shit."

Connor didn't have anything to say and kept quiet as he slowly ran his hand down Sumo's trembling back in a comforting manner.

"Kid?" Turning away from the window Hank looked at the deviant sitting silently on the floor behind him. The way Connor was being so quiet and still reminded Hank of the way people suffering from anxiety attacks would internalize their stress and mentally calm themselves down. "Hey, are you okay?"

Remaining silent Connor didn't react to Hank's question as he continued to pet Sumo's fur.

"Son?" Kneeling down beside the deviant Hank put his left hand to Connor's right shoulder and immediately retracted his hand when Connor jumped in fear and let out a small gasp of fright that made Sumo back off for a moment. "Whoa... Sorry, son. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I-It's fine." Blushing a pale blue out of embarrassment Connor gave Hank a somber stare where he sat. "Sorry."

"The storm bothering you?"

A particularly strong gust made the entire house shudder and groan as the power flickered for a moment. "...Yes."

"The wind reminds you of that fucked blizzard place in your mind, doesn't it?"

Nodding in confirmation Connor bowed his head and immediately had Sumo cowering back over his lap.

"It's okay to be freaked out, kid. I still have problems with snow and ice because of..." Trailing off as he thought about the car accident that took Cole's life Hank didn't want to recount that tragic moment any further. "You know."

"Unfortunately, I do."

The power flickered again and Sumo let out a whimper prompting Connor to wrap his arms around the Saint Bernard's neck in a protective hug.

"Shit." Standing up Hank pulled his phone from his pocket in case the power went out so he could use the built-in flashlight to guide his way. "I'm going to find a couple candles."

A strange pressure in the air built up and Connor quickly rose to his feet and actually scooped Sumo up into his arms. "Hank, we need to get below ground. Now."

Stopping in front of the entrance to the hallway Hank froze and felt his heart begin to race. "Funnel touchdown?"

"Yes, and the wind gusts are becoming strong enough to uproot trees."

"Fuck, okay." Pushing open the bathroom door Hank motioned for Connor to enter the small and mostly enclosed space. "Inside the tub. This place didn't come with a basement and the crawlspace is full of crap."

Carrying Sumo into the bathroom Connor sat the whimpering dog down inside the bathtub and then knelt down beside him. Keeping his hand hooked around Sumo's collar Connor watched as Hank grabbed a bunch of towels and packed some around the small window built into the wall of the shower, then draped more over Connor, Sumo and then himself as he too knelt inside the too crowded tub.

"Keep the towel over your head." Hank instructed as he pulled the plastic shower curtain across the tub and then pulled the hem inside the tub to pin it in place under his and Connor's weight. "If the window behind us breaks it'll protect you from the glass."

"You've done this before." Connor noted as he did as he was instructed and anxiously began rubbing Sumo's chin and neck. "Haven't you?"

"Yeah..." The wind outside gusted so loudly that the haunting sound of tree branches and limbs creaking and snapping sounded like a direct threat. "Cole was barely seven months old and Barb and I were scared out of our minds. We hunkered down in here and hoped for the best."

The flickering power and harsh wind made Connor visibly flinch as he told himself over and over again that he wasn't trapped in the Zen Garden or freezing to death thanks to Amanda's influence. He was free of CyberLife's influence, free of Amanda's control and he had his best friend beside him even during the worst of times.

"It'll be okay, son." Seemingly able to pick up on Connor's fear Hank put his right hand to Connor's left shoulder again and held tight. "There's enough large buildings and skyscrapers to keep a tornado from getting too close to the city, and Detroit's low enough to make prolonged touchdown funnel activity minimal."

Creaking on the roof made Connor shudder as his sensors confirmed that the wind was tearing loose shingles and loosening the siding on the Eastern side of the house. The damage was being done and there wasn't anything that Connor could do to stop it.

"It's okay." Hank repeated as he tried to not think about how the storm was damaging his home and putting his small family at risk. "We're safe in here."

A thunder crash made the entire house shake as a tree in the neighbor's yard was toppled over by the wind and undoubtedly caused damage to the property in the process. The moment the entire area shook in the aftermath of the downed tree Connor jumped again and Sumo whimpered loudly as he buried his face against Connor's chest in his own fear.

"It's all right. The house is still standing we're still alive." Doing his best to keep the situation under control Hank masked his own fear behind an unshakeable wall of confidence as he kept is hand on Connor's shoulder. "The storm will pass soon enough."

What felt like an eternity finally passed after twenty minutes of relentless wind gusts, pounding rain, hammering hail, blinding lightning and deafening thunder plagued the city as if giving the citizens a preview of the End Times. Once everything became quieter and the pressure in the air began to lessen Connor was able to tap into the Doppler radar system and confirmed that the storm front had finally passed them by.

"...It's over." Whispering as he looked to Hank beside him Connor didn't even try to make a move to leave the bathroom yet. "The storm has left the area. There are no further reports of tornadic activity or funnel clouds."

"We'll just stay here a moment longer." Hank never moved his hand from Connor's shoulder as he listened to the weakening storm outside. "The wind caused a lot of damage and it's possible trees and poles might still be getting knocked down as we speak."

Agreeing with the plan Connor stayed put and rubbed Sumo's ears lightly. Even the massive dog was trembling in the aftermath of the storm and Connor knew that animals were far more sensitive to weather patterns than humans and androids ever could be.

"My phone's quiet." Hank noted as he watched his cell signal come back to life. "That's good. If we're not being requested to come in to the precinct then that means the damage to the city is pretty minor."

"Should we go to the precinct anyway?"

"No. We'll stay here, check out the house and then the rest of the neighborhood. If someone's hurt we can help until emergency personnel get to our area."

Looking down at Sumo as the large dog continued to tremble in fear Connor rubbed Sumo's ears and removed the towels as he prepared to leave the bathroom and assess the damage to the house. "I'll make sure Sumo stays in the laundry room while we're outside in case he panics."

"Good idea." Standing up slowly Hank pushed the shower curtain aside and used his phone to illuminate the dark bathroom so he could walk without tripping. None of the windows broke which meant there weren't any glass shards to worry about, but Hank wasn't taking any chances. "I'm going to go gear up and meet you outside."

Following after Hank with Sumo in his arms again Connor managed to carry Sumo into the laundry room and sit him down on the floor. Petting Sumo's ears again Connor waited for the massive dog to stop trembling before he even dared to step outside the house to check on the damage. The fear of being forced into another smothering blizzard was still prevalent even though it was illogical.

Wrapping up in his thick black hoodie and protective work boots Connor joined Hank outside through the front door and noted that the front lawn was covered in broken sticks, twigs, full tree branches, leaves and miscellaneous lawn ornaments from the neighbors properties. A few of the neighboring fences were damaged and loosened by the wind, but nothing too catastrophic.

"The roof is gonna' need some work." Hank noted as he pointed to the roof where half a dozen shingles had been blown away. "We can put a tarp over the damage until we can fix it."

Noting the damage as well Connor picked up one of the loose shingles in the middle of the front lawn and held it tightly in his hands. "...It's fortunate that this is the worst of the damage."

"Yeah." Looking at the neighbors' houses around him Hank put his hands to his hips and focused on the house directly across the street. There was a large tree smashed through a front window and creating a huge mess. "Come on. The Corbens' are going to need some help getting their house cleaned up and secured for the night."

* * *

Physically exhausted but mentally jumpy Connor was unable to sleep as even the slightest hint of a strong breeze made him flinch. Unable to lay down and sleep that night Connor retreated to the livingroom with Sumo promptly on his heels as they both decided to keep alert for the night. It didn't take long for Hank to join them in the livingroom as the trio waited for the power to return to the house at long last. It had been six hours since the power outage and the house was eerily quiet in the aftermath of the storm.

"You're okay, son. So am I." Hank stated in a calm voice as he sat down on the couch beside Connor. The way Sumo was still hunkering down on Connor's lap was almost cute, but it'd be better if Sumo wasn't still scared. "Sumo's okay, too."

"I know." Keeping his hand on Sumo's head Connor looked to Hank beside him. "It just feels like there's an electrical charge in the air and it's making me feel unusually restless."

"Adrenaline is keeping me up, too. I can't imagine how any deviant could get some rest when the air is being filled with electricity from the heavy storm clouds overhead."

"I don't like the cold air and I don't like wind." Connor stated as if being prompted for a confession. "I'm not sure how I'll be able to withstand this coming winter."

"You'll be just fine. You've survived worse than some snow and ice."

"That doesn't make it a pleasant experience."

"Tell me about it. I hate the cold, too."

"How were you able to stay so calm throughout the storm?"

"I just reminded myself that if I could survive a nasty storm like that once before, then I could do it again."

"That type of confidence is something I wish to gain." Another gust of wind made him visibly tense up for a moment as he spoke. "Right now I can't stop reacting to the actual wind blowing."

"It's normal to be jumpy after something like that. You've never experienced a nasty storm like that before, so it makes sense you to be on edge for a while longer."

"Good to know."

There was a subtle groan as the power returned to the house and the appliances regained life. As light filled the livingroom and the television turned back on the two detectives both relaxed and decided that the worst of the storm was indeed over.

"Let's watch the news for a moment and then go to bed, okay?" Hank insisted on the simple plan as he picked up the remote to change the channel. "We'll have to go to the precinct and help direct emergency services, so we'll need to get some sleep."

"I understand." Rubbing Sumo's chin a little Connor sighed and made sure his internal chronometer was set to awaken him at his usual time. "I'll be sure to keep Sumo in my room so he doesn't stress out during the night."

"Yeah, sure." Looking at the way Connor was holding onto Sumo made Hank smirk. It was like a little kid holding onto an oversized puppy. "He'll be okay tomorrow on his own. It's not the first time he's put up with being alone after a storm."

"I'm glad. No one should be alone if they're scared."

_**-next chapter-** _


	24. "X" is for Xenophobia

A gathering of human protestors downtown warranted police attention as the group was beginning to grow in size and become violent. As the one year anniversary of the android Revolution drew near embittered and bigoted humans took to the streets as if they could somehow undo the past year's progress and regain majority control over how laws and rights were distributed. While the police intervened to break-up the pointless protest before it escalated the group tried to double-down and fought back, and soon the group was being arrested one person at a time for disturbing the peace, inciting a riot and verbally assaulting innocent deviants.

During the mass arrest Connor and the other deviant patrol officers assisting at the scene were insulted, spat on, punched, kicked and threatened by the violent humans they were detaining. Only after the mess was cleaned up in the streets were the responding police officers and detectives allowed to go back to the precinct to deal with the paperwork.

Grumbling at his desk as he stirred a fourth sugar packet into his coffee Hank stared at the one-hundred and fourteen arrests that had just taken place - a new record, and leaned back heavily in his chair. "This is bullshit."

Ben, who had overheard the comment, agreed entirely. "Makes me glad I switched to forensics from patrol. I'd rather deal with blood and guts instead of an angry prick with a big mouth."

"Ain't that the truth." Sipping at his coffee Hank realized that Connor hadn't made any complaints about his abundance of sugar, and then realized that the deviant wasn't at his desk, in the breakroom or in Captain Fowler's office. "Where'd that kid get to? Interrogation?"

"The last time I saw Connor he was stepping foot in the elevator." Ben confirmed as he messed with his own paperwork. "Did he get banged up at the scene?"

"No, he just got his clothes a little messy. At least, that's what I thought."

"I guess there's only one way to find out."

"Yeah, yeah..." Taking another sip of his coffee Hank rose from his desk and made his way over to the elevator as well. "I'm on it."

Heading into the elevator Hank went up to the second floor and walked into the dispensary to see if Connor had been by. After Joel confirmed that Connor hadn't been in the dispensary whatsoever Hank put his hands to his hips and tried to think of a place where the deviant would go without actually leaving the building. Deciding to trust his hunch Hank returned to the elevator and went up to check the roof.

Stepping out of the elevator of the fourth floor and entering the small stairwell connecting to the roof access doorway. The door was unlocked and sure enough when Hank pushed the door open Hank spotted Connor standing near the center of the rooftop and staring out toward the city around all around them. The way Connor had his arms neatly folded behind back and had a perfect posture reminded Hank of a soldier awaiting his orders.

"Hey, son." Joining Connor on the roof Hank stood beside the deviant and peered out at the city as well. "What brings you up here?"

"...I just needed to think."

"Thinking about how crazy it is that some people can't handle change?"

"I'm thinking about how humans still see androids as inferior lifeforms and wish to see us exterminated." The thought was as grim as it was factual. "Humans created us, used us, abused us and when we demand equality they want us all destroyed." Bowing his head a little Connor looked away from the city and to the gray rooftop beneath his feet. "They fear us because they can't control us. And they hate us because we're... different."

"Bigots have been around since the dawn of humanity, son. Don't let it get to you."

"It's hard not to when I'm surrounded by it every day that I clock-in and just try to do my job."

"Yeah, I get that." Crossing his arms over his chest to keep warm Hank stayed beside the deviant as they spoke to one another. "If humans aren't hating on one another and trying to kill each other because of the color of our skin, because of religious bullshit, gender identity, age or sexual orientation, we're going to find another target to bully. It's a massive fault with the species and as such it's not going to be an easy problem to fix."

"Xenophobia is a poison, Hank. It destroys a person's soul, taints their hearts and closes their minds. Where does it come from?"

"I wish I knew, kid. Some people say it's caused by nurture, others say nature and some think it's because a person is just born with anger and hatred in their hearts."

"What do you think?"

Shaking his head a little Hank sighed and watched his breath vanish in the chilly autumn air right before his eyes. "I don't know what to think anymore. I've seen and experienced so damn much from so many different people, and I have no idea what to expect these days."

"What can I do to help change things?"

"That's a mystery I can't figure out, either."

"I see..."

"Hey, look at me." Lightly putting his hand to Connor's left shoulder Hank tried to give the deviant a reassuring grin. "Remember back at the tower when you beat your 'evil-twin' and were about to awaken your people, and I told you that you were going to be the ones to change things for the better?"

"Yes." Locking eyes with Hank beside him Connor remembered all the details vividly. "I remember everything with perfect clarity."

"Well, I meant it. You and all the other deviants are going to be the ones to make the world a better place for everyone, not just yourselves."

"You sound so confident about that belief."

"I am. You're already dedicating yourself to protecting this city in every way that you can," he began listing off without any hesitation. "Markus opened up a sanctuary to help all the deviants heal and move on to a better life, you work with Markus directly to help him navigate the laws to ensure that everything happens in a smooth and legal manner, AND you don't shy away from problems that come your way. That's the mark of a fantastic leader and the beginning of a great future for everyone you help!"

"Thank you for saying so."

"No problem." Keeping his hand on Connor's shoulder Hank looked out at the city again and felt the chilly air beginning to prickle his skin. "Want to go back inside? It's pretty cold out."

"Not yet." Raising his gaze again Connor resumed watching the city skyline with genuine intrigue in his soulful brown eyes. "I'm not quite ready to back inside and resume cleaning up the messes created by xenophobes."

"And no one would blame you for a moment, son."

_**-next chapter-** _


	25. "Y" is for Year

It was November 11th, 2039 and the one year anniversary of the android Revolution. While a majority of the deviants in the city were celebrating their freedom and triumphs over the past year Connor was keeping quiet and hiding out in his bedroom while he strummed a somber tune on his guitar. It was an odd day for the deviant as he wanted to celebrate everything that had happened for his people, but Connor didn't feel like he deserved to be a part of any celebration because he still believed that his actions prior to deviating made him a villain in the eyes of his people.

Despite Markus specifically requesting for Connor to go out to New Jericho Tower and celebrate with his friends Connor politely declined under the guise of needing to work overtime, and then shut himself away from the world. As he played his nameless song on his guitar Connor felt Sumo cuddling up against his side and felt Hank's eyes watching him from his opened bedroom door way.

"I'm not going out to the tower, Hank." Already knowing what Hank was thinking Connor stopped playing his song and tucked the pick under the strings running along the neck of the guitar. "I don't belong there."

"You can't keep kicking yourself for what you did as a machine, son."

"Why not?"

"For the same reason you don't make me feel like shit for what I did back when I was drinking." Crossing his arms over his chest Hank leaned against the opened door frame with his shoulder and watched the deviant very closely. "I wasn't being myself and you weren't yourself, either."

Unable to refute that claim Connor sighed and placed his guitar in the stand positioned against the wall on the right side of his bed. "...Maybe."

"No maybe about it. You weren't the real you yet, and you can't be held accountable for such a problem. You weren't in control and so you're not responsible."

"I wish I could believe that." Closing his eyes Connor made a move for his coin on the nightstand and began to roll it over the back of his right knuckles to calm his racing mind as he reflected on the past year. "But I can't."

"You need to let go of things that are beyond your control." Entering the bedroom Hank sat down on the edge of the bed and gave the deviant a sympathetic stare as he watched Connor pull his legs back to make room for him to sit. "I had to learn that for myself."

"But how?"

"Well, you should think back to that day and what you did, and ask yourself this question: 'Did I have the chance or the choice to do anything differently?'"

"...No. I was a machine and had no say in what happened."

"And now that you've said it out loud ask yourself this: 'Did you want to do what you did?'"

"No, of course not!" Connor sounded almost offended by the question and stopped his coin. "Hurting people isn't something I ever wanted to do!"

"Then you need to remind yourself that what you did was against your will and that you'd never do anything like that now that you have the freedom of choice."

"You make it sound so easy."

"I hate to break this to you, son, but anything worth having or earning for yourself is NEVER going to come easy. You have to fight hard, honestly and defiantly if you're going to find something as coveted as inner peace with yourself." Patting his hand on Connor's shoulder lightly Hank let out a defeated sigh as if he were about to face a horrible truth. "Maybe we can find that peace together some day."

"...You're still struggling?"

"Yup." Hank confirmed it without any shame. "I may have sobered up, but that doesn't mean I'm finally over everything that happened to me in the past."

"But you seem so much stronger now than ever before." Readjusting himself on the bed Connor sat down directly at Hank's side and gave him a perplexed look. "How did you do it? What changed?"

"For starters I stopped drinking, but the biggest change in my life has been one thing."

"What's that."

"You." Hank pointed at the deviant as he smirked proudly. "You came into my life, bought me a drink at the bar, dragged me to the scene of a homicide, impressed the hell out of me with your investigation and interrogation skills, was ready to risk your life to chase down a deviant, pulled my ass back up over the edge of a rooftop, sobered me up and dragged me to another homicide, showed me your heart when you let two deviants go free, didn't back down when I foolishly pulled my gun on ya', stopped a deviant from going on a massacre at the broadcast tower, faced your creator, proved your heart wasn't a fluke when you spared Chloe, found Jericho and then deviated so you could save their lives and free thousands of more captive androids in the tower. You saved my life in so many ways in such a small time frame, and I can't help but think that if you didn't interfere with my life I would've ended it well over a year ago."

"Please don't say things like that." Hearing the way Hank could be so nonchalant about potentially taking his own life was still something that Connor dreaded to even fathom. "You're my best friend and I need you to help me stop making mistakes."

"You don't need my help, you're doing just fine as you are."

"I don't think I am. Otherwise I wouldn't be here asking for your guidance."

"Well, I am a 'wise sage', after all."

Managing an amused grin at last Connor relaxed a little and took Hank's words to heart.

"You're going to be okay, son. And I know this because you've made it easier for _me_ to be okay. We're BOTH going to be okay."

"I hope you're right."

"I am, I can feel it." Noting the time on his phone Hank tilted his head a little and gave Connor a knowing glance. "You know, it's not even seven o'clock. You could still head out to New Jericho and catch up with Markus and the other leaders without it being too late."

Still hesitant to go out and be around other deviants Connor purposefully dragged his feet on the matter. "I'm not sure."

"You should at least stop by to talk to Markus for a few minutes. If you don't feel comfortable then you can come back here after chilling with your friend."

"That seems... hasty."

"So what? There's no time limit on social interactions."

"I suppose you're right."

"I am." Rising from the bed Hank slipped his phone back into his pocket and made his way toward the door. "Trust me, you'll be glad you went to the tower to be with your people. This is a historic night and very important to everyone."

"Okay. I'll go." Standing up from the bed as well Connor put his coin aside for a moment and trailed after Hank to catch him at the door and spoke up. "Just one thing before you go."

"Oh?" Turning around Hank faced Connor and gave him a curious stare. "What's up?"

Wrapping his arms around Hank's shoulders Connor gave him a quick hug and held tight. "Thank you for being willing to take in a stray deviant and give him a home for all this time."

"Hey... You're not a stray!" Returning the hug Hank patted Connor's shoulder in a comforting manner. "You're more like an orphan who was taken into a family."

Such an idea made Connor's eyes widen for a moment. "...Family?"

"Sure, son. We're our own little family and we take care of each other. Right?"

"Right. I guess we are."

"Besides, I call you 'son' enough that it might as well be official, right?"

"...I suppose so." Letting up on the hug Connor studied Hank's face for a bit as if contemplating whether or not it was okay for him to say or do anything else. As he stood before Hank with a quizzically wide expression Connor just stared at the senior detective as if seeking more answers. "That isn't... an inaccurate statement of our current relationship. Family."

"Hey, there's far weirder families out there than a human and a deviant." Patting Connor's shoulder again Hank motioned to the closet behind Connor and indicated that he get ready to head out to the tower. "Get changed into some nicer clothes and head out to the tower. Your friends are waiting for you, and have been waiting all damn year for you to finally go back to the tower."

_**-next chapter-** _


	26. "Z" is for Zoo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by: Stadakona

The winter season struck Detroit with a white tidal wave of ice and snow that left the city shivering even as the warm Christmas lights and New Year's Eve glow illuminated the streets. While most people were eager to hang out in bars, restaurants or at a family member or friend's house to celebrate throughout the night, Hank and Connor were more interested in finding a quiet place to avoid large crowds of people. The holidays had drained their social batteries fairly quickly and left them running on fumes while everyone else was full of an annoying abundance of excess energy.

Wanting to do something special to commemorate the new year without getting too overwhelmed Hank suggested that Connor find something that they could stand to do without getting too annoyed at other people. The deviant cybernetically checked through all the events happening in the city that night and Connor found something that intrigued him, but wasn't sure if Hank would enjoy it.

"Any luck, kid?" Hank knew that Connor was on the hunt and based on the way Connor's coin faltered for a moment as he danced it over the back of his right knuckles in his usual rhythmic pattern he came across at least one interesting event. "You look like you found something."

"...Perhaps." Opening his eyes Connor caught the coin between his index and middle finger knuckles to hold it still. "But I'm not sure if you'd enjoy it."

"Let me hear it."

"Well, the Detroit Zoo is doing a light display and fireworks show tonight. I've... I've never been to the zoo before, so that's why it caught my attention."

"Then let's go."

"Really?" Turning to give Hank a stunned look as they sat side by side on the couch Connor's demeanor picked up immediately. "You don't mind?"

"Why would I?"

"Because there might be a lot of people."

"Kid, this is Detroit. There's going to be a lot of people no matter where we go."

"...Fair point."

"Besides, you love animals and animals love you. Why not go see some animals that don't drool all over ya' or rub against your ankles every chance they get?"

"Thank you, Hank. I appreciate this."

"It's no problem. Let's go see the lights and stick around the fireworks." Chuckling a little Hank rubbed his right hand over his bearded chin and noted the current time and looked at his coat hanging on the hook by the front door. "Hell, bringing in the new year while surrounded by a bunch of animals instead of humans would be a nice change of pace."

* * *

The evening came around and the Detroit Zoo began to fill up with citizens all looking to celebrate the new year together. While the two detectives strolled through the zoo's outer pens to admire the light displays shaped to look like the wildlife in the area the duo seemed to be entirely comfortable at the smallish group of people elsewhere. Lights in the shapes of otters, lions, tigers, jaguars, panthers, polar bears, snakes, lizards, wolves, exotic birds, elephants, giraffes, zebras, hippos and various fish made the entire zoo glow with warm and bright light, and were truly beautiful to admire.

Most of the living animals were either sleeping or were taken elsewhere for the winter, but those who were still awake or were android versions of extinct and endangered animals were a truly impressive sight to behold. Their displays hadn't been touched with lights or garland or anything, but the plexiglass windows were spotless and the interior of their habitats were lit up so everyone could see the animals inside.

The sight of the gray wolves gathered in their pack and pacing the length of their large pen was fascinating to Connor. "I think these wolves are almost as big as Sumo."

"Hard to believe that Sumo is comparable to a wolf."

"Think he'd like to run around in a pack?"

"Nah." Hank couldn't imagine Sumo running around like a wolf in the wild. "The big oaf would rather lay on your bed all damn day."

"I don't have a problem with that."

"Good thing Sumo's not THAT big." Walking a little further down Hank motioned to the tigers stretched out and relaxing in the middle of their own pen. "I'd hate to think how you'd try to navigate the house with someone that size trailing after ya' or trying to climb all over you."

Admiring the beautiful large cats showing their orange and black striped fur Connor agreed that a tiger would be a tad too big for the house. "I believe Sumo is as big a pet as the house would be able to handle."

"Yeah, seems about right."

Continuing on their way the detectives looked at the other animals on display and admired how each creature was unique and beautiful in their own way. Something about the way the massive collection of animals all coexisting in the same area was beautiful and symbolic of how the ever changing world needed to adapt and grow together in order to improve.

"Check it out." Hank motioned to the penguin exhibit just as a small group of the tuxedo printed birds slid around on the ice and dove in and out of the water as they absolutely loved the cold weather. "Finally found someone who likes wintertime."

"We were bound to encounter at least one creature who does."

"Barb loved the penguins whenever we brought Cole here." Hank reminisced with a genuine smile on his face. "She always knew when the staff were going to feed the penguins and could always find the best spot to watch those little guys dive through the water after their fish."

Wanting to keep the topic upbeat Connor redirected Hank from the past and toward the present. "What did you like to see? Maybe we can see it tonight."

"I'm a simple guy, I liked watching the elephants walking around in their herds. Something about those impressively powerful but gentle giants being able to throw around heavy downed trees like they were nothing, then being incredibly ginger with their calves, always fascinated me."

"Too bad it's too cold for the elephants to be on display."

"We can always come back in the springtime. Hell," continuing on their way Hank thought about another interesting thing that happened from time to time. "you might be able to feed a giraffe or two next time you come here."

"That'd be a fascinating experience."

"Just don't forget to bring Tina with you. She loves giraffes and would never forgive you if you fed a giraffe without you."

"Noted."

"Too bad the souvenirs stands are closed for the night." Pointing at the shuttered kiosk with the 'closed' sign over the front Hank continued on his way with Connor right at his side. "Getting you a new t-shirt to commemorate the night would've been perfect."

"That's okay, I don't need a souvenir." Admiring the lights guiding their way Connor glanced about the area and felt entirely at peace. "Everything is just fine as it is."

There was something calming about the gentle glow of the lights and it was enough to help the detective duo feel warm despite walking about the December night in the freshly fallen snow. As the air became colder Connor insisted that they go inside the warmer aquarium and watch the tropical fish swimming about in their heated tank, and stop walking for a moment.

"I gotta' admit, kid." Hank smirked as he and Connor sat on a bench in the middle of the tropical aquarium display. The live rock, coral were almost glowing as well, and the brightly colored fish swam about gracefully in massive schools all around them. "The lights outside are pretty damn cool. Good choice."

"I'm impressed as well." Connor was glad that the zoo turned out to be a good choice. "Something as simple as a show of lights is surprisingly enthralling."

"And the cold is keeping a lot of people at bay, so it's also a lot quieter than I expected."

"Thank you for agreeing to do this."

"No problem, son. Why do you keep acting like you just asked me to chop my hand off?"

"Because I know you don't like to celebrate very much. You didn't want to do anything for your birthday and even our Christmas was modest and simple."

"That's just because I don't have much energy these days." Patting his left hand over his right lapel of his coat as if making sure something important was still being kept safe. "But just so you know, if you want to do anything out of our usual routine or just want to do something new, you don't have to get my permission or anything. Just go ahead and do it."

"I'll try to keep that in mind, but I don't like to be alone. It's... unnerving."

"You've been alone most of your life, haven't you?"

Connor's eyes darkened for a moment as he answered honestly. "...Only in the beginning."

"Well, that's going to change."

"How so?"

Reaching into his coat's right interior pocket Hank presented Connor with a yellow envelope and a black ink pen. "I've been thinking about this all year long, and I think it's the right thing to do."

"What's this?" Opening the envelope Connor read over the documents inside and his eyes brightened and then widened with shock. "...This is an adoption application."

"Yup."

"And this application entails you... adopting me."

Trying to not chuckle Hank parroted his previous reply. "Yup."

"And I have... a full name now."

"You sure are perceptive, son."

"Hank," turning to look at the senior detective and undoubted father figure beside him, Connor clutched the paper with both hands. "you named me after yourself?"

"Gotta' problem with having the middle name 'Henry'?" Rubbing his right palm over the back his hair Hank wondered if he crossed the ling somewhere. "I mean, you can pick whatever-"

"No! No! It's just... Unexpected!" Looking over his new full name; Connor Henry Anderson, Connor hovered the pen over the signature line to make the adoption one-hundred percent official. "And an honor!"

"So..." Surprised by the way Connor seemed genuinely excited Hank swore he saw a real smile on Connor's face. "You're okay with this?"

"Of course!" Showing Hank his full smile, a true smile he had never once displayed in his short life, Connor confirmed that he was more than okay with being adopted and having a new name. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you're still finding yourself in this world and I thought maybe you'd like to create your own name and identity, not just take on the surname of a has-been detective."

"Hank, you're NOT a has-been. You're still a great detective and a great person." Putting the document down on the opened space in the bench between Hank and himself Connor signed his full name with a flourish and made himself officially an Anderson. "You're also a great father!"

The abrupt and enthusiastic reaction caught Hank off guard again and actually made tears well-up in his blue eyes. It had been so long since he had been called anything remotely close to being a father and hearing that term had an immediate impact on his old heart.

"I-I mean..." A little embarrassed by his outburst Connor just focused on the application and tried to regain his composure. "I _assume_ you're a great father. I never had one so I wouldn't-"

Wrapping the deviant up in a quick hug Hank didn't let Connor finish his statement or try to hide his embarrassment. "Well, you have a father _now_."

Returning the hug Connor felt his embarrassment fade away as he embraced Hank, _his father_ , and knew he had done the right thing by accepting the offer to be adopted and by accepting Hank's surname as his own. Connor finally found a place where he belonged and didn't feel so alone anymore.

The new year countdown began as midnight approached and the fireworks were scheduled to being at the count of zero.

"Come on, son." Saying 'son' with a new meaning behind the term of endearment Hank patted Connor's shoulders and wiped a tear from his eye. "Let's go watch the fireworks and begin the new year off right. As a family."

"Of course." Slipping the newly signed document into his jacket for safekeeping Connor walked right alongside Hank to return to the outside of the zoo where they could see the display in person. "I find fireworks to be truly appropriate to celebrate the new year."

"A new beginning with a big bang." Hank quipped as he and Connor stepped outside and approached the gathered crowd to watch the show. "It's one of the few things us humans got right."

"That, and legally allowing such a notion as adoption to happen." Grinning where he stood Connor's internal chronometer confirmed it was midnight, a new year, and the first firework soared into the night sky to burst into a massive fiery array of blue flames. "Happy new year... _dad_."

Putting his hand on Connor's shoulder Hank held tight and let out a small breath as he acknowledged the comment. "Happy new year, _son_."

_**-End of Series-** _


	27. -Epilogue-

The new year started off better than the previous year. Avoiding a broken ankle when he took Sumo out for a walk and managing to keep himself from slipping on the ice in general, Connor happily returned to the house and helped Hank finish putting away the holiday decorations and getting the car cleaned up after enduring a brutal winter. The chore was simple and messy, but necessary all the same. Working together the two detectives managed to make the cleaning process swift, easy and less difficult compared to working alone throughout the day.

Finished with their tasks the father and son duo went into the livingroom to relax and warm up after spending their morning and afternoon outside. It didn't take long for Sumo to climb all over the two detectives as he sough some affection, and while Hank a little annoyed at having 170 pounds of fluff and heat slobbering all over him, Connor didn't mind one bit.

"I wish you'd realize you're not a pup' anymore." Hank grumbled as he pat Sumo's back lightly. "You're way too big to be a lapdog."

"He may be big but he's still good company."

"Yeah, yeah. Speaking of which..." Reaching for a stack of mail on the nearby end table Hank passed the sealed envelopes over to Connor to take for himself. "Your paperwork was filed in record time and you're officially an Anderson now."

"That's good!" Opening the envelope Connor looked at the official documents, social security card and driver's license all confirming his new name and couldn't stop himself from grinning. "I'm glad I can start the year with my new name a part of it."

"Well, paperwork or not, you're my son so matter what anyone tries to say."

"Thank you for saying that. It makes me feel like I truly belong."

"That's because you do, son. You're always welcome here and nothing will ever change that."

"It's nice to have a family to call my own. Even if that family is just a father and a family dog."

"Who knows what the future holds? Maybe I'll meet someone special and give ya' a step mother." 

Catching the joke Connor arched his brow and gave Hank a skeptical glance. "There's a lot of deviants in the city who still need a family. Maybe I could bring home a little brother or sister for you to adopt, too."

"If you want to bring New Jericho over to stay they're going to be payin' rent AND they're all sleeping in your room!"

"That sounds reasonable."

"You say that, but..."

"For what it's worth, I truly do appreciate you giving me a home and a family. You're my best friend and I couldn't imagine anyone else taking up the role of being mentor and my father."

"It's an honor to be a father again, son. Just don't do anything stupid and make me have to ground ya'." Crossing his arms over his chest Hank gave the deviant a playful glance as he kicked his feet up onto the coffee table. "I _hate_ being the bad guy!"

_**-End-** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short epilogue because I figured they deserved to have a better start to the new year compared to what happened to them throughout this series. :)
> 
> Also... I was thinking about turning the tables on the "prompt" challenge and issuing a challenge of my own! If I were to post a 30 prompt challenge would anyone partake of such a challenge? I love reading the challenge series since there's so many different ways to interpret a plot or a prompt, and it keeps the challenges original and energetic!
> 
> If I get enough interest I'll create a 30 challenge list and post the link under my Profile right here on Ao3. <3


End file.
